In Chang'an, a leisurely stroll was impossible.
And then, it was getting on towards evening.
We happened to meet there along the river.
And it's not as if we were related.
I sighed at my own clumsiness and then,
Suddenly, I was caught up in your playful spirit.
I'm usually afraid to lose myself like that,
Afraid my life will blow away like dust.
There I was, grey-haired, and actually
Scampering, not even stopping to rest.
Everything about this poem places it in Meng Jiao's early forties as he struggles to pass the imperial exams.
长安无缓步,况值天景暮。
相逢灞浐间,亲戚不相顾。
自叹方拙身,忽随轻薄伦。
常恐失所避,化为车辙尘。
此中生白发,疾走亦未歇。
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