|Petal by petal by Neha|
The second cup breaks my loneliness,
The third cup searches my barren entrails but to ,
find therein some five thousand volumes of odd ideographs.
The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration, - all
the wrong of life passes away through my pores.
At the fifth cup I am purified, the sixth cup calls me
to the realms of immortals.
The seventh cup-ah, but I could take no more! I only
feel the breath of cool wind that rises in my sleeves.
Where is Foraosan? Let me ride on this sweet breeze
and waft away thither.
- Lo Tung, Tang Dynasty