125. THE EIGHT IMMORTALS OF THE WINECUP t^
Chi-Chang rides his horse, hut reels -*
As on a reeling ship. <K
He would lie in the bottom fast asleep. ->^
Ju-yang Prince must have three jugfuls *
Ere he goes up to court. > >>
How copiously his royal mouth waters *
As a brewer's cart passes by! ^
It's a pity, he mournfully admits,
That he is not the lord of the Wine Spring. Our Minister Li squanders at the rate Y\
Of ten thousand pence per day. ***
He inhales like a great whale, «J
Gulping one hundred rivers; And with a cup in his hand insists,
He loves the sage and avoids the wise. Tsung-Chi, a handsome youth fastidious,
Disdains the rabble, And turns his gaze toward the blue heaven,
Holding his beloved bowl — Radiant is he like a tree of jade
That stands against the breeze. Su Chin, the religious, cleanses his soul
Before his painted Buddha, But his long rites must needs be interrupted
As oft he loves to go on a spree. As for Li po, give him a jugful,
He will write one hundred poems. [185]
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