Follow Tao, and nothing is old or new.
Lose it, and the ruins of age return.
Someone smiling back in the mirror,
hair white as the frost-stained glass,
you admit lament is empty, ask how
reflections get so worn and withered.
How speak of peach and plum: timeless
South Mountain blazes in the end?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We have to admit that much is lost in translation... Perhaps the original Chinese should also be added here, for reader's reference. - - - - - - 览镜书怀 得道无古今,失道还衰老。 自笑镜中人,白发如霜草。 扪心空叹息,问影何枯槁? 桃李竟何言,终成南山皓。