The Way of Tea
A friend presented me With tender leaves of Oolong tea, For which I chose a kettle Of ivory-mounted gold, A mixing-bowl of snow-white earth. With its clear bright froth and fragrance, It was like the nectar of Immortals. The first bowl washed the cobwebs from my mind – The whole world seemed to sparkle. A second cleansed my spirit Like purifying showers of rain, A third and I was one of the Immortals – What need now for austerities To purge our human sorrows? Worldly people, by going in for wine, Sadly deceive themselves.