lu tung

The first cup moistens my lips and throat.
The second cup breaks my loneliness.
The third cup searches my barren entrail
but to find therein some five thousand
volumes of odd ideographs.
The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration, —
All the wrongs of life pass 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 Elysium?
Let me ride on this sweet breeze
and waft away thither!

— Tea-Drinking, by Lu Tung.

The first cup moistens my lips and throat. The second cup breaks my loneliness. The third cup searches my barren entrail but to find therein some thousand volumes of odd ideographs. The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration - all the wrongs of life pass out through my pores. At the fifth cup I am purified. The sixth cup calls me to the realms of the immortals. The seventh cup - ah, but I could take no more! I only feel the breath of the cool wind that raises in my sleeves. Where is Elysium? Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither.
—  Lu Tung, Tea-Drinking
Siete tazas de té.

La primera taza acaricia mis labios y garganta.

La segunda taza destruye las paredes de mi triste soledad.

La tercera  busca en los riachuelos secos de mi alma para encontrar historias de miles de ideogramas absurdos.

Con la cuarta el dolor y los agravios de la vida se evaporan a través de mis poros.

La quinta relaja los músculos y los huesos se vuelven luz.

Con la sexta encuentro el camino que conduce a los antepasados inmortales.

Oh la séptima taza! -mejor no tomarla! Si sólo tuviera la sensación.

Es el viento fresco soplando a través de mis alas,

que me lleva al camino hacia Penglai

Tea lover.

Tea cups by Vladimir Guculak on flickr.


The first cup moistens my lips and throat.
The second cup breaks my loneliness.
The third cup searches my barren entrail but to find therein some thousand volumes of odd ideographs.
The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration - all the wrongs of life pass out through my pores.
At the fifth cup I am purified.
The sixth cup calls me to the realms of the immortals.
The seventh cup - ah, but I could take no more! I only feel the breath of the cool wind that raises in my sleeves.
Where is Elysium?
Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither.
Lu Tung, ìTea-Drinkingî