1559, by Wen Cheng-ming

Working my way through life's karma, I've reached the age of ninety;
Old, sick, going to ruin - but still in one piece!
In human life, how many make it to their eighties or nineties?
In one life, I've seen five generations, great and great-great grandchildren!
Let's just say tomorrow will be like yesterday;
Who would claim that "a year added equal to one year deducted from life"?
One after the other, the plum blossoms fill my eyes with spring;
How can we allow sadness here, around the wine jar?

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