A pot of wine among the flowers, drinking alone without friends.
Cup raised I toast the bright moon, together with my shadow we become three.
Alas, the moon cannot drink, and the shadow only follows my body.
In this moment the moon and the shadow, should be my partners in welcoming the spring.
I sing and the moon sways back and forth, I dance and the shadow shakes and breaks.
In sobriety we share happiness, once inebriated we go our separate ways.
Moon, let’s forget together the worries of the world, let’s meet once again in the remote river of heaven.
If the heavens didn’t love wine, there wouldn’t be a wine star in the sky.
If the earth didn’t love wine, there shouldn’t be a spring for wine.
Since the heavens and earth love wine, those who love wine are worthy of the heavens.
I’ve heard that clear wine is sagacious, it’s been said that unfiltered wine is like esteem.
Since esteem and sagacity have already been drunk, there’s no need to search for immortals.
Three cups and you’ll understand the great Dao, one peck and you’ll flow with nature.
Yet the enjoyment attained through wine, must not be shared with the sober.
March in Xianyang City, thousands of flowers in sunlight embroidered.
For those who brood alone in the spring, such a state requires wine.
Poverty, riches, longevity or a short life, our fate we inherit from long ago.
One jar like life and death, everything is still unclear.
Drunk I lose the sky and earth, dazed I am solitary on a pillow.
I don’t know my own body, this is the epitome of enjoyment.
Innumerable aspects of infinite anxiety, three hundred cups of wine.
Though wine scarce and anxiety aplenty, after wine anxiety melts away.
Come to know transparent sage, drink him you’ll open up.
Refuse millet retire to Shouyang Mountain, no food return face gaunt.
Drinking doesn’t please this generation, false pretense easy to exploit.
Crab legs medicine for immortality, grain husk palace of spirits.
Drinking beautiful wine a necessity, attic drunk under the moonlight.