Le Tian, Le Tian,
Come, let me speak to you.
You should be earnest,
And practice it for life.
Things are of myriad kinds,
They shackle men like locks.
Events stir myriad feelings,
They burn men like fire.
Myriad things come rushing,
They lock your body.
Making you, though not old,
Withered like dry wood.
Myriad feelings rush in,
They fire your heart.
Making you, though not dead,
Turn your heart to ashes.
Le Tian, Le Tian,
Is this not great sorrow?
Why not learn from the past and think of the future?
Of a hundred years of life, seventy are rare.
Suppose I grant you seventy.
You are now forty-four,
How much time is left in the next twenty-six years?
You don't think of the past twenty-five or six years,
Swift and sudden as a single sleep.
Past days and future days are both fleeting,
Why torment yourself in between?
Le Tian, Le Tian,
Is this not great sorrow?
From now on,
You should eat when hungry,
Drink when thirsty.
Rise by day,
Sleep by night.
No wild joy,
No groundless worry.
Lie down when ill,
Rest when dead.
Herein is your home,
Herein is your native land.
Why abandon this and leave,
Bringing restless haste upon yourself?
Restless haste, oh, where do you wish to go?
Le Tian, Le Tian, return!