The mirror at night covered my white hair, and the wine in the morning made my face glow red. It's a pity that I'm still pretending to be young. I thought it was time to relax. Cinnabar is very cheap, just like clods, but somehow it can be burned into elixir. My black hair has turned white now, and I haven't heard the news that I can retire and go home. Oh, you are a gentleman, how can you degenerate into a little urchin? When it comes to poetry and wine, you forget to eat and sleep? Sometimes when you think of a good sentence, you have to read it out loud as if you were a poet. Fill the bar with wine, drink it off, and then you completely forget what happened outside. Once upon a time, there was a gentleman who was drunk and fell asleep on the ground, using the ground as a mat and the sky as a quilt. There are still his remains there now. Should I be allowed to sleep there? I woke up to drink, and then I wrote a poem after drinking. Looking back at his wife and children, I realized that life at home was tight. I also know that it is wrong to drink and write poems every day. Besides, I'm over 50 years old, and it's not that I don't want to change these problems. But if I want to change them, I am not practical in my heart. Let's call it a day. Everything else is old-fashioned gossip.
Appreciation: Bai Juyi wrote many self-deprecating poems in his later years, but only one of them. There are both feelings for his later years and self-esteem for his ability to drink poetry. More importantly, it shows the author's dissatisfaction and helplessness with reality, so he has to learn from the seven sages of the bamboo forest and entertain himself with poetry.