Down from the Mountain

by Li Bai

　　The mountain moon went all the way with me.

　　Backward I looked, to see the heights aflame

　　With a pale light that glimmered eerily.

　　A little lad undid the rustic latch

　　As hand in hand your cottage we did gain,

　　Where green limp tendrils at our cloaks did catch,

　　And dim bamboos o'erhung a shadowy lane.

　　Gaily I cried, "Here may we rest our fill!"

　　Then choicest wines we quaffed; and cheerily

　　"The Wind among the Pines" we sang, until

　　A few faint stars hung in the Galaxy.

　　Merry were you, my friend: and drunk was I,

　　Blissfully letting all the world go by.

　　Li Po