This rose is from the dust of one like me.
His joy within the rose, thus I can see.
My companion and confidant it is, because
The colorful rose brings the sweet scent of he.
17
With fate you still hope to trade;
Passage of time should make you afraid.
You said no color comes after black,
I said my black hair to white degrade.
18
In times of youth, drinking is better.
With the joyful, linking is better.
The world is a mere temporal inn;
With the shipwrecked, sinking is better.
19
You can buy everyone with gold;
Either in one shot, or slowly are sold.
Even the narcissus, pride of the world,
Sold itself, why, its crown of gold behold.
20
This tired life is the flood of age,
With a full cup began this outrage.
Wake up, and see the carrier of time
Slowly carries you along life’s passage.
