Sorrow comes, oh sorrow comes!
Host, you have wine, do not pour it yet; listen to my song of sorrow.
When sorrow comes, if I don't sing or laugh, no one under heaven knows my heart.
You have gallons of wine, I have a three-foot zither.
Zither's sound and wine's joy complement each other; one cup is worth a thousand catties of gold.
Sorrow comes, oh sorrow comes!
Though heaven is long, earth is old, a hall full of gold and jade cannot be kept.
Wealth and honor for a hundred years—how long can they last? Death and life come once to all.
A lone gibbon sits crying by the moon over a grave; for now, just drain the cup of wine.
Sorrow comes, oh sorrow comes!
The phoenix does not come, the river yields no chart; Prince Weizi left, Jizi became a slave.
The Han emperor did not remember General Li; the Chu king dismissed Minister Qu.
Sorrow comes, oh sorrow comes!
Li Si of Qin early regretted, casting empty fame beyond his person.
Did Fan Li ever truly love the Five Lakes? Success achieved, fame secured, he withdrew himself.
A sword is for one man's use; books can make a name known.
Hui Shi would not serve a lord of ten thousand chariots; Bu Shi might not master a single classic.
One must seize a governorship while black-haired; do not vainly grow old as a scholar.