Don’t Dream of the Tang Dynasty: Flowers Scatter Tears in Times of Sorrow

My courage soars to the heavens; with sword in hand, I roam the world. I drink in the courtyard beneath the moon, and let poetry and wine carry me through my youth. How easy it is to spend a fortune! I paint the land with the sweep of my hand. Inspiration pours forth in endless torrents. I gaze northwest, where the moon is gauze and the night a painting. The past is vast and misty. Do you still remember when our banners once flew high above the sea of clouds? This journey is perilous, the heights forbidding, with old trees and crows on shadowed cliffs. Wouldn’t it be better to go home early? A thousand cups from the flourishing Tang Dynasty: one drunken night is nothing to boast about.