of the Wine Cup," supposedly died drunk, trying to embrace the moon from his little boat on the Yangtze. I've read other translations of his poem "Drinking Alone Beneath the Moon." Compared to [David] Lunde's, they seem stodgy and affected and "poetic" in a bad way. Lunde's version is a mellow nighttime ballad, sweetly timeless, that captures that feeling of setting off on a road trip with no destination. There's also a poignant humor to it that's missing in other versions, but feels so authentic that I'm just sure it's the poet's voice, and sure I would've really liked him, if I'd ever come across him singing and dancing under some fat spring moon, hanging out with his shadow.
I offer a cup to the moon.
from Bookslut: Breaking the Willow: Poems of Parting, Exile, Separation and Reunion edited and translated by David Lunde
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