“Zhe Xian” — An English translation of a Chinese song.
A celestial song, a jade flute's call, A cup of dew, as pure as crystal wine. With graceful steps, the sword begins to dance, A white-robed figure glides through time. New palaces gleam with golden carvings, The strings of the konghou ring through the halls. With a single stroke of ink, he leaves behind A wild and untamed heart in every line. In flowing robes, with sword in hand, He wanders freely through the mountains and the lands. He writes like one possessed, with no sorrow to restrain, For poetry is his madness, and joy his only chain. They call him an immortal, yet Heaven cannot hold him, So down to the mortal world he comes. In the painted halls, he drinks with abandon, His eyes alight with endless tenderness. Another verse, another scroll, How many measures of ink can his heart bestow? He pours the fiercest wine beneath the heavens, And rests atop the towering towers of Chang'an. He gazes upon the world below, And wonders— Who could ever live so freely, With a heart as lig...