In ancient times the Chinese made new clothes that they reserved for the end of spring. Nowadays they do the same, but they put them on as soon as the new year begins. At court this meant multiple sets of garments and various kinds of regalia. Tu Fu is so poor he pawns each set as soon as he’s used it and buys wine to ensure his obliviousness to the sad state of affairs in the country and at court. Even his reappointment to the post of censor is no solace but, rather, a burden. Several months after he wrote this he was demoted and transferred to Huachou. But instead of taking up his new post a hundred or so kilometers east of Ch’ang-an, he resigned, left for Chengtu, and never returned to the capital, though he never stopped hoping to be recalled.
TU FU
Every day after court I pawn my spring clothes
every day from the waterway I come home drunk
wherever I go I owe money for wine
but living until seventy has always been rare
butterflies float half-seen among the flowers
dragonflies flit here and there across the water
I urge you to flow with the wind and light
enjoy your time together and don’t fight