Classic Poem

Laughing, before the lamps, we pour each other
New Year's drinks:
in the mirror, fleeting time has passed another cycle.
Human life is limited from the start—a hundred years:
thousands of things have happened in mine, I regret none of them.
Remaining hardships? No need to send them off
in the “fire carriage”;
Ailments? Blown away by every firecracker!
Yesterday has gone, and tomorrow is with us:
the spring winds turn the calendar back to the first page.