《拟古十二首·其九》The Old Dust

李白

生者为过客，The living is a passing traveler;

死者为归人。 The dead, a man come home.

天地一逆旅，One brief journey betwixt heaven and earth,

同悲万古尘。 Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.

月兔空捣药，The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain;

扶桑已成薪。 Fu-sang, the tree of immortality,has crumbled to kindling wood.

白骨寂无言，Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word

青松岂知春。 When the green pines feel the coming of the spring.

前后更叹息，Looking back, I sigh;

浮荣何足珍？Looking before, I sigh again.