25 Comments

That's the difference between me and a poet. Getting drunk outside by myself was just that. Now LI Po wrote a nice poem about it, but I woke with a bad headache.

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One legend has it that Li Po drowned while jumping drunkenly from a boat to chase the moon's reflection in a river. This must be the poem that inspired such a legend - whether true or not. In any case, he seems to have enjoyed his 'pot of wine' and the moonlight, and he produced quite a poem as a result of it - rather than sleeping with the fishes.

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On August 16, whether I am alone or not, I will hoist my glass and make a toast to Li Po, a Bukowski favorite.

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There should be more poems about booze! This is also Li Po:

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.

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I can get drunk on the moon. And prefer to. It's less dangerous. And there isn't a hangover.

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This is haunting for those who've tried and failed to give up drinking. It highlights the wonder and beauty of poetry.

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My shadow is my late husband. The moon lights the set and together -forever we dance, drunk along the path of the Milky Way 🌟

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Beneath the blossoms with pot in a spliff......

For those that don't drink

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Great poem - who did the translation?

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My question also! Have an answer? 🌕

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Just gorgeous…

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Li Po knows what time it is. Time to drink, apparently.

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Thank you for offering something I never would've come across.

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"Oh, let a man of spirit venture where he pleases and never tip his golden cup empty toward the moon!" - Li Po, one of the greatest poets of all and one of the original Eight Immortals of the Wine Cup

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This has merits as poetic expression. It is well-written. I liked to read what went on in this drinking poem. Good stuff!

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Read this 20+ years ago (in German) on the wall of a Berlin exhibition of Chinese art, was intrigued--and forgot to write down the poet's name. Tried ever since to find it on the web by keywords, always failed. Even bought two anthologies of Tang-era poetry, hoping to find it in these, was disappointed twice. Today a good old friend (who didn't know about my history with this particular poem) sent the link below to me, noting that when he read it, he had to think of me. Life at times takes curious paths ...

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Love this so much. Really felt the impact of Li Po’s experience.

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