Among the flowers with wine beneath the sky
Alone I drink — no friend or kin, just me.
I raise my cup to toast the moon on high.
That’s two of us; my shadow makes it three.
Alas, the poor moon knows not wine’s delight.
My shadow follows like a living thing.
At last with moon and shadow I unite
In joyful bond, to seize the last of spring.
I sing: it sets the moon to rock in time.
I dance: my shadow cannot hold its place.
Sober, we share companionship sublime;
Drunk at last, we drift apart in space —
Lost to worldly things, until some day
We’ll meet again, beyond the Milky Way.