Make friends or foes of men as you will;
Of fickle friends you can’t have your fill.
Have you not heard of friendship true
Between Guan and Bao, ancient and new?
Such friendship now is thrown away
Like dirt on which none care to stay.
翻手作云覆手雨，纷纷轻薄何须数。
君不见管鲍贫时交，此道今人弃如土。
This poem stems from Du Fu’s years of hardship in Chang’an, likely composed around 752 CE. Having languished in the capital for nearly a decade, repeatedly failing the imperial examinations, his life had sunk into the dire straits he himself described: “At dawn, knocking at rich men’s gates; at dusk, trailing in the dust of sleek horses.” After personally experiencing the cold disdain of the powerful and the alienation of old acquaintances, he felt to the bone the fickleness of human relations. With a tone as fierce as fire, this poem pierces the hypocritical essence of social connections veiled by an age of prosperity, issuing a desperate cry for sincere friendship and a fierce denunciation of the era’s decadent morals.
Classical Chinese poetry thrives on Concision and Ambiguity. Without tense or number, the words create a timeless space where the reader becomes the co-creator of the poem's meaning.
Look for Contrasts: light and shadow, movement and stillness. Don't just translate the words; feel the Yijing (artistic conception) that lingers long after the last character.
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