Three—With the Moon and His Shadow
With a jar of wine I sit by the flowering trees.
I drink alone, and where are my friends?
Ah, the moon above looks down on me;
I call and lift my cup to his brightness.
And see, there goes my shadow before me.
Ho! We're a party of three, I say,—
Though the poor moon can't drink,
And my shadow but dances around me,
We're all friends to-night,
The drinker, the moon and the shadow.
Let our revelry be meet for the spring time!
I sing, the wild moon wanders the sky.
I dance, my shadow goes tumbling about.
While we're awake, let us join in carousal;
Only sweet drunkenness shall ever part us.
Let us pledge a friendship no mortals know,
And often hail each other at evening
Far across the vast and vaporous space!
Related quotes
Drinking Alone
I take my wine jug out among the flowers
to drink alone, without friends.
I raise my cup to entice the moon.
That, and my shadow, makes us three.
But the moon doesn't drink,
and my shadow silently follows.
I will travel with moon and shadow,
happy to the end of spring.
When I sing, the moon dances.
When I dance, my shadow dances, too.
We share life's joys when sober.
Drunk, each goes a separate way.
Constant friends, although we wander,
we'll meet again in the Milky Way.
Li T'ai-po
tr. Hamil
Drinking Alone in the Moonlight
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
Version 2
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,
No friends at hand, so I poured alone;
I raised my cup to invite the moon,
Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
Now the moon had never learned about drinking,
And my shadow had merely followed my form,
But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.
Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.
Alone And Drinking Under The Moon
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
The Little Fete
I take a bottle of wine and I go drink it among the flowers.
We are allways three ... counting my shadow and my friend the shimmering moon
Happily the moon knows nothing of drinking, and my shadow is never thirsty
When I sing, the moon listens to me in silence. when I dance, my shadow dances too.
After all festivities the guests must depart. this sadness I do not know.
When I go home, the moon goes with me and my shadow follows me
song performed by by Vangelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amidst The Flowers A Jug Of Wine
Amidst the flowers a jug of wine,
I pour alone lacking companionship.
So raising the cup I invite the Moon,
Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us.
Because the Moon does not know how to drink,
My shadow merely follows the movement of my body.
The moon has brought the shadow to keep me company a while,
The practice of mirth should keep pace with spring.
I start a song and the moon begins to reel,
I rise and dance and the shadow moves grotesquely.
While I'm still conscious let's rejoice with one another,
After I'm drunk let each one go his way.
Let us bind ourselves for ever for passionless journeyings.
Let us swear to meet again far in the Milky Way.
And I Under The Moon
The jug and I under the moon
and my lips around the neck of the bottle of wine,
by the moon light is it full of the flowers dew,
I pour the scarcity of each dropp and it's association
against the bamboo and I watch to need the heron it's
crest off i see it go by as a dragons shadow independently.
Moving off, 'Therefore before the lifting of the glass,
I invite you because of our friendship,
revalations are made as to my shadow which then makes up
the moon myself and it's our three.
Is it not known my shadow follows each movement of my body
swaying as the leaves from which the rice it makes is simply.
Moon of moon shining down between shows us company
and my shadow because I am by you for wine maintained,
as to the spring flowing forth nothing is forever
and would be assisted wise are you adjusted too practice
each our lips the neck of the bottle of wine our pleasure.
As for me and as for you the moon I who am I have begun
babmboo in sleep before I go, the stand gently rising,
you dance and the shadow it moves strangely
and with you including swan song.
I' Between; Still you be looking up at the dark sky
moon smiling down and of which you are consciously, moving.
Afterwards, and you rejoice mutually; exclusively then thus do I
and Each one tried where it was, we laid down our heads
friend of moon, knew us drunk to go off searching for the shadow of your friend. Passion is less this night when travelling.
Under the moon and friends are friends, permits that fact, we are.
l.p.
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drinking 'n The Moons Beams
DRINKING 'N THE MOON BEAMS
With a bottle of wine I sit by the flowing willow tree
Wer’re drinking alone the moon and I
, the moon above looks down on me;
I call and lift my cup to her brightness.
Drinking in the Moon beams my companion provides for free.
What a party we to are having I say, —
But if only it was a party for three,
Then we could get drunk on the moon beams,
the way it used to be,
So I seek my solace alone
Regretting I am free
The drinking, the moon and my shadow.
Is all that’s left for me!
poem by James Roberts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drink Drink Sire
Drink drink sire
None other times
Insistent more
No other shadow
But thyself
Moon and stars
Drink drink sire
Thy creed to followers
Lonely hearts
Under the moon
And in the flowers
Drink drink sire
What times other
What seasons other
Spring and stars
And the moon
And song of love
Drink drink sire
To the last drop
Un satiated
More and more
From moon now
To stars now
To milky way
Drink drink sire
To the passion of drink
To meet again in the journey
For Li Po
Islamabad
17/3/2010
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I and my shadow
I and my shadow
Are in the auditorium
To watch the dances
Of the sun and the moon.
The sun the moon
The earth and and all
Are dancing singng
Simultaneously.
I am not there to keep
Account and my shadow
does not ask me question
As a honest parter.
I and my shadow
Are here to watch
To listen the dances
And the music keeping
Fully well Roses
Not rose not on
All the ways.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Sun and Moon
Sun is always said as light
Shines the world with its ray
It is light
Until no one can be able
To see its true face
Moon is always said as shadow
Reflection in the middle of dark
It is shadow
But people can see
With all the lack
Sun must always shine
And moon will follow
Sun must not change
And moon will disappear
Sun is always said as light
Moon is always said as shadow
But do they really want
To be said like that?
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Could Be The Moon
i could be the moon
where you can be a body and a
shadow
i could be a lake where
the moon may shine
and you can still be the body
and the shadow
and the voice
i could be a candle in the dark
where you may put
your hope and you can still be the
body and the shadow
and the scent
i could all be your moon
your lake and your candle
and you can still be the body and the shadow
and you shall walk
under me (if i were the moon)
and around me (if i were the lake)
and you may have the power
to put me off (if i were just a candle
in the dark
where you are the body
and the shadow and the voice
and by the mere sigh
of your whimper
i may die
so i still prefer to be your moon
or your lake so i can be your full light
so i can be your mirror
larger than your body
not helpless to your shadow
in silence, i still like to be myself
not a slave, not someone whom you can just
give away as easily as a flicker of a candle
as fickle as you are
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Li Po Waking The Morning After, circa 1981
'Let me be forever drunk and never come to reason!
Sober men of olden days and sages are forgotten,
And only the great drinkers are famous for all time.' - Li Po
'We share life's joys when sober.
Drunk, each goes a separate way.' - Li Po
Waking up among these frail green things,
by the stream I hear the hornets singing.
I do not fear them but I fear the sting
of light as day creeps into my shade.
I have read of sad and joyful things
under last night's moon and now I weep
for the Immortals fading from light
to light with their pockets of pine bark
and resin to chew, their wine of sorrow
to drink in their, and my, sorrowful season.
I am homesick for the earth as
these old poets knew it,
a thin veil of mountains,
winter birds pecking at suet,
some girls dancing, and a wife,
some young sons to pull the reeds up
fishing and weeping for my exposed
wino bones while I sit, drunk, pronouncing
upon the deeds of state. Pitiable.
Let there be leaving taking and coming to,
drinking and drinking again,
playing fool to the wisdom of the ages,
remarking at those unkind sages
who always smack their lips for war.
Give me again the hilltop cave,
the pilgrim come to call at the door.
Fires I will then light for this age.
Who comes to me in this season for reason
besides the bee and the mite, the winding gourd?
I have sat here in one spot so long
I begin to lose my sight. Look!
The stream is growing a beard in the daylight!
No word can bring back the Immortals but for wino joys.
There is a blight upon our time. I have been faithful to it
tipping my cup. The present is sufficient but I admit
I am ready to go. My time has come.
Leave the world to the scoundrels!
[POET'S NOTE: I wrote the above poem in response to Li Po's famous poem, 'Alone And Drinking Under the Moon'. Here it is, by Li Po:
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moonset
Idles the night wind through the dreaming firs,
That waking murmur low,
As some lost melody returning stirs
The love of long ago;
And through the far, cool distance, zephyr fanned.
The moon is sinking into shadow-land.
The troubled night-bird, calling plaintively,
Wanders on restless wing;
The cedars, chanting vespers to the sea,
Await its answering,
That comes in wash of waves along the strand,
The while the moon slips into shadow-land.
O! soft responsive voices of the night
I join your minstrelsy,
And call across the fading silver light
As something calls to me;
I may not all your meaning understand,
But I have touched your soul in shadow-land.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Omens
A single sheaf of large shrivelled
Teak leaf glided uncannily to the
Ground with a tap and continued its
Forlorn dance across the road below
A lone street lamp - right in front
Of me as I was cycling by troubled
By an upcoming undertaking.
The dropping Of a leaf as if portending some untoward
Happening coming my way, telling me
Not to go foward with what I had decided;
Nature's way of telling me to be careful,
That dangers lurked ahead; analoguous
To Caesar's wife's disturbing dreams
Of his coronation murder. I continued
The journey back home and was again
Greeted by a large black cat dashing
Across just as I was making my way to the porch.
I shivered, feeling lost for a second,
Sighed, laughed and went straight into
House with a lighter chest.
INSPIRED BY
Amidst the Flowers a Jug of Wine
------------
Amidst the flowers a jug of wine,
I pour alone lacking companionship.
So raising the cup I invite the Moon,
Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us.
Because the Moon does not know how to drink,
My shadow merely follows the movement of my body.
The moon has brought the shadow to keep me company a while,
The practice of mirth should keep pace with spring.
I start a song and the moon begins to reel,
I rise and dance and the shadow moves grotesquely.
While I'm still conscious let's rejoice with one another,
After I'm drunk let each one go his way.
Let us bind ourselves for ever for passionless journeyings.
Let us swear to meet again far in the Milky Way.
Li Po
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Souls Sharing Mystery Nighttime Symphony
it was awake dark late the other night
moon was but a fingernail ribbon of light
all was silent quiet upon the sleeping hills
slight breeze in trees stirs nighttime thrills
from out of our bedroom we did silent creep
at still 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. it's time to shadow peep
I whistle twice thrice into friend dark shadow trees
soon a few familiar shapes flutter about night breeze
my daughters Rachael Kayla silent watch with me
my friends I smile call to introduce daughters to see
these are my season friends at this season call
fruit bats feast this season these trees their mall
in solo stillness of dark or star moon lit night
I whistle call then rapture watch their flutter flight
now as still as still as a shadow can be
my daughters by my side may watch with me
Rachael four cannot silent still wait or watch
words she spills her arm motions darkness cuts a swatch
yet faithful old season friend bat still flies to me greet
in darkness two span distance from my face we meet
nature's wild creatures my heart stirs in innocent delight
even fruit eating binturong greeted my face once in ink night
crossing telephone power cable from bat fruit trees
in cloak ink darkness adult male pause curiosity sees
this nightly poet shaman stand on this balcony ledge
to wondrous creation we share soul mystic pledge
in dead of night binturong two span face distance I meet
our senses one moment we part upon paths spiritual greet
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Man on the Moon
when in the night i start to drink
i always look at him
he encouragingly grins
as if he understands my need
i ask him to join me but
he's stuck on the moon
and thus he's so sad
when in the night i need a drink
i always look up to him
then i drink and drink some more
and meet the dawn sprawled on the floor
he would have joined me but
he'd stuck on the moon
and thus he is sad
celestial gloom
for the man on the moon
i'm off pretty soon
to the man on the moon
poem by Max Kuvaev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadow Me
Shadow me oh my
Dark emotion.
Shadow me all the way!
Shadow me to rock
In cradle heart,
To sway and just to sway!
Shadow me as a
Shady love tree,
In my hot, scorching day!
Shadow me must in,
Middle of night,
Like a gleaming pure ray!
Shadow me, shadow,
My foggy love,
Shadow wild me to tame.
Shadow to follow
My every step,
Shadow me in each poem!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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You Are My Shadow
My shadow has atleast been of my size.
It was not mine for long, I proclaim
About my shadow very close to me
I think at times my dear you are a little bigger.
It is a shadow that needs no sun
Nor the kindness of a moon.
You are that- I have ever felt.
After me and before me
It moves like my past and future dear...
A shadow that wades across my world of no fun
Or the nod of a god who gives no boon.
You are that-I have ever said.
When I won`t exist in tomorrow`s world
What will you do my dear?
In the chambers of darkness ahead
Will you burn for our little one?
You are to answer-I have ever said.
My shadow has been mine thus
As you begin to shrink to my size.
You have never been so earlier
I am now to stand in the sun and under the moon
You have already answered.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue
when the moon is full
and the night
is cold
and the trees
all but shadows
i walk on the bridge
and stand
by its side
i am a shadow too
lurking
i see this shadow
on the raging river
below
shall i loosen
my grip
on the railing
of this bridge
full moon?
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Shadow
The shadow of your threshold is so full
Of meaning, that the stranger knows what home
Is yours, if peace dwell here, or strife, or restless
Unsatisfied ambition. As the tree's
Deep shadow meaneth rest and comfort, or
Is poison, sleep eternal, such the house
That is a home's sweet shadow or a dark
Abode of sin, of lurking lie and danger.
The shadow of your life, that is so small
In bright midday and summer's burning sun,
Begins to lengthen when your evening comes,
And shows the beauty of the tree in outline,
Its graceful forms, its harmony and power;
And never did its beauty strike before,
As now, when lost in thought, you contemplate
The shadow on the lawn. The golden rays
That flood it, make it higher, nobler, and
Its shadow ever greater, till the night
Calls forth the moon, to make it deep and weird
As if unspoken pain had darkened it,
As if the silvery paleness of the moon
Sharpened its features into hardness almost.
Behold the shadow of thy life! Look well if
It be a threshold that reveals the strong
Unbending will, the height of all your aims,
Your passions' darkness, and the harmony
Of all the branches that were put into
Your care! Look at the shadow when your day
Is done, and winter's moon will draw its line
In naked truth, without the flattering leaves
Upon your windingsheet's unruffled snow.
poem by Carmen Sylva
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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