Farewell To Uncle Yun, The Imperial Librarian, At The Xie Tiao Pavilion In Xuanzhou
What left me yesterday
Can be retained no more;
What worries me today
Are the times for which I feel sore.
In autumn wind for miles and miles the wild geese fly.
Let's follow them with eyes and drink in tower high.
Your writing's forcible, like ancient poets, while
Mine is in Junior Xie's direct and easy style.
Both of us have ambitions high;
We'd bring the moon down from the sky.
Cut running water with a sword, it will faster flow;
Drink wine to drown your sorrow, it will heavier grow.
If we despair in our lifetime of all affairs,
Tomorrow let us sail away with loosened hairs.