A Little Drink under the Moon


Last night, rain all around the eaves,
lone lamp before me, I sat scratching my head;
tonight moonlight Hoods the courtyard;
leaning on the old willow, Ising a long song.
The world’s changes-huge and never-ending;
success/ failure-one turn of the palm.
In man’s life the happiest thing
is to lie and hear them pressing out the new wine.
Since I came home from Liang and Yi,
I grieve for kin and friends faded and fallen,
name after name marked down in the list of dead—
who can manage to hold out for long?
Most of the young fellows I don’t even know—
what use would they have for a wreck like me?
One cup-no one to share it with—
I’ll knock on the gate and call the old fellow next door.

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