The first cup caresses my dry lips and throat.

The second shatters the walls of my lonely sadness.

The third searches the dry rivulets of my soul to find the stories of five thousand scrolls.

With the fourth the pain of life’s grievances evaporates through my pores.

The fifth relaxes my muscles and my bones become light.

With the sixth I find the path that leads to the immortal ancestors.

Oh the seventh! Better not take it!

If I had it the only feeling is the fresh wind blowing through my wings

As I make my way to Penglai.


Lu Tong, Tang Dynasty (A.D. 618-907)

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