Classic Poem

Have you not seen the grass by the river?
In winter, withered and dead,
In spring it covers the roads.
Have you not seen the sun above the walls?
Now it is sinking, seems gone for good,
Yet next day it is back with us again
But no such resurrection comes for us
Who once descended to the Yellow Springs
Have fled this world for ever.
Life is all suffering, very little joy.
Only the young have boundless confidence
If we should ever realize our aims
Let's try and meet as often as we can,
Keep cash for wine forever by our beds.
Renown in silk or annals of bamboo?
Such things are not for me
Honor or obscurity, life or death,
High heaven deals out the lot.