As the two of us drink
together, while mountain
flowers blossom beside, we
down one cup after the other
...
Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt sitting in a green wood.
I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
A wind from the pine-tree trickles on my bare head.
...
Mountain flowers open in our faces.
You and I are triply lost in wine.
I’m drunk, my friend, sleepy. Rise and go.
...