The Unorthodox Tale of Cultivation

Others laugh at me for being improper; I laugh at them for running themselves ragged.

Toiling and suffering in pursuit of immortality, only to end up...

With frosted hair at the temples, finding joy outside a tavern.

I envy only the drinkers, singing loudly and never setting down their cups.

Tears fall as I look back on the past. I only wish to stay drunk forever and never wake!