A toast, to my father

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To drown the ancient sorrows,
we drank a hundred jugs of wine
there in the beautiful night.
we couldn't go to bed with the moon so bright.

Then finally the wine overcame us
and we lay down on the empty mountain--
the earth for a pillow,
and a blanket made of heaven

-Li Bai,
"Mountain Drinking Song"

Comments

[morbidloren]

That's beautiful.

[aceofkittens]

What a lovely poem.