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- The first cup caresses my dry lips and throat,
- The second shatters the walls of my loneliness,
- The third explores the dry rivulets of my soul
- Searching for legends of five thousand scrolls.
- With the fourth the pain of past injustice vanishes through my pores.
- The fifth purifies my flesh and bone.
- With the sixth I commune with the immortals.
- The seventh conveys such pleasure I am overcome.
- The fresh wind blows through my wings
- As I make my way to Penglai.
LU TONG, Thanks to Imperial Censor Meng for His Gift of Freshly Picked Tea
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