Classic Poem

East winds to greet my mother when she came;
North winds to see her on the way back home
She arrived when roads were fragrant with blossoms,
Now suddenly this cold of frost and snow!
At cockcrow already I'm trying my footgear,
Waiting by her palanquin, legs a bit unsteady
Never mind if the son's legs are tired,
Just worry whether her palanquin's fit for riding
I pour her a cup of wine, a drink for myself too,
First sunlight flooding the inn, frost already dried
Fifty-year-old son, seventy-year-old mother—
Not often you find a pair as lucky as us!
Off to the south, in from the north, streams of people—
Who among them happy as this mother and son?