The living is a passing traveler; The dead, a man come home.
Li Bai
I bow in reverence to the white cloud.
In a universe animated by the interaction of yin (female) and yang (male) energies, the moon was literally yin visible. Indeed, it was the very germ or source of yin, and the sun was its yang counterpart.
Shade and light are different in every valley.
Heaven is high, Earth Wide. Bitter between them flies my sorrow.
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine, No friends at hand, so I poured alone; I raised my cup to invite the moon, Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
Now let you and me buy wine today! Why say we have not the price? My horse spotted with five flowers, My fur-coat worth a thousand pieces of gold, These I will take out, and call my boy To barter them for sweet wine. And with you twain, let me forget The sorrow of ten thousand ages!
You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain; I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care. As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown, I have a world apart that is not among men.
All the birds have flown up and gone; A lonely cloud floats leisurely by. We never tire of looking at each other - Only the mountain and I.
To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows, We drained a hundred jugs of wine.A splendid night it was.. In the clear moonlight we were loath to go to bed, But at last drunkenness overtook us; And we laid ourselves down on the empty mountain, The earth for pillow, and the great heaven for coverlet
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.
From some home a jade flute sends dark notes drifting, Scattering on the spring wind that fills Lo-yang. Tonight, if we should hear the willow-breaking song, Who could help but long for the gardens of home?
I am asked why I live in the green mountains; I smile but reply not, for my heart is at rest. The flowing waters carry the image of the peach blossoms far, far away; there is an earth, there is a heaven, unknown to men.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older.
The birds have vanished into the sky, and now the last cloud drains away. We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains.
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