Li Po (701-762 / Chu / Kazakhstan)
True-Taoist, good friend Mêng,
Your madness known to one and all,
Young you laughed at rank and power.
Now you sleep in pine-tree clouds.
On moonlit nights floored by the Dragon.
In magic blossom deaf to the World.
You rise above - a hill so high.
I drink the fragrance from afar.
Comments about this poem (Mêng Hao-jan by Li Po )
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