驱车上东门行
驱车上东门,
遥望郭北墓。
白杨何萧萧,
松柏夹广路。
下有陈死人,
杳杳即长暮。
潜寐黄泉下,
千载永不寤。
浩浩阴阳移,
年命如朝露。
人生忽如寄,
寿无金石固。
万岁更相送,
贤圣莫能度。
服食求**,
多为药所误。
不如饮美酒,
被服纨与素。
I Drive My Carriage
I drive my carriage to the Eastern Gate
And look toward the north where graves locate.
Amid the winds the poplars heave and whine;
Along the road the pines and cypress line.
The dead are buried underneath the ground,
As if sunk into the earth, darkness-bound.
They are sleeping soundly in the netherworld,
And will never wake up and be stirred.
The seasons always change and start anew
While human life fades like the morning dew.
As human life is but a short-term loan,
It never lasts as long as metal or stone.
The years go on forever at any rate;
E'en saints and sages cannot master fate.
Those who seek immortality and take the pill
Are rendered even worse than falling ill.
I'd better drink and taste delicious wine,
Dressed in silk and satin soft and fine.