Classic Poem

I am growing old
In the shadow of death
My admiration goes to the waves
That come from the same source
to flow in different ways
Life is not worthy of mention
Yet hate and enmity have been my tribulation.
Do I really have adversaries?
Or are my sensitive ears deceiving my eyes?
Vision and hearing are both waning.
But malice against me is still waxing
I shall call on my Taoist friends;
Together we shall go on a journey.