Poems of Bai Juyi
The Spring Banquet is Over and I Feel Like Crying
Fifth year, third month, this morning, done.
Guests leave, hall empty, alone behind the doors.
Since you, too, are feeling bad, I'll keep you company.
Spring has passed us by. Perhaps it will return.
We'll stand here a moment and hear the warblers sing.
Our thoughts can follow poplar blossoms, falling everywhere.
That gold belt hangs too low. Your sleeves are kind of loose.
Every passing year we dwindle. Our clothes don't fit us now.
It is 840 and Bai is sixty-eight years old. His wife is in her fifties. And he is definitely speaking to his wife here. No one speaks to his girlfriend this way. You grow old with your wife. You pretend to be young for your girlfriend. These things never change. Bai will live six more years. His wife will outlive him.