Ahura

In the ninth year of the reign Yungho (353) in the beginning of late spring we met at the Orchid Pavilion Shanyin of Kweich'i for the Water Festival, to wash away the evil spirits.

Here are gathered all the illustrious persons and assembled both the old and the young. Here are tall mountains and majestic peaks, trees with thick foliage and tall bamboos. Here are also clear streams and gurgling rapids, catching one's eye from the right and left. We group ourselves in order, sitting by the waterside, and drink in succession from a cup floating down the curving stream; and although there is no music from string and wood-wind instruments, yet with alternate singing and drinking, we are well disposed to thoroughly enjoy a quiet intimate conversation. To-day the sky is clear, the air is fresh and the kind breeze is mild. Truly enjoyable it is to watch the immense universe above and the myriad things below, travelling over the entire landscape with our eyes and allowing our sentiments to roam about at well, thus exhausting the pleasures of the eye and the ear.

Now when people gather together to surmise life itself, some sit and talk and unburden their thoughts in the intimacy of a room, and some, overcome by a sentiment, soar forth into a world beyond inclinations—some noisy and rowdy, and other quiet and sedate—yet when we have found that which please us, we are all happy and contented, to the extent of forgetting that we are growing old. And then, when satisfaction, and with the change of circumstance, change also our whims and desires, there then arise a feeling of regretful memory. Furthermore, although our lives may be long or short, eventually we all end in nothingness. "Great indeed are life and death" said the ancients. Ah! what sadness!

I often study the joys and regrets of the ancient people, and as I lean over their writings and see that they were moved exactly as and would to make those things clear to myself. Well I know it is a lie to say that life and death are the same thing, and that longevity and early death make no difference! Alas! As we of the present look upon those of the past, so will posterity look upon our present selves. Therefore have I put down a sketch of these contemporaries and their sayings at this feast, and although time and circumstances may change, the way they will evoke our moods of happiness and regret will remain the same. What will future readers feel when they cast their upon this writing!

(Yutang Lin, The Importance of Living, Beijing: Foregin Language Teaching and Research Press, 2009, pp. 166-167)