The first cup moistens my lips and throat;
The second cup breaks my loneliness;
The third cup searches my barren entrail but to find therein some thousand volumes of odd ideographs;
The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration-all the wrongs of life pass out through my pores; At the fifth cup I am purified;
The sixth cup calls me to the realms of the immortals.
The seventh cup-ah, but I could take no more! I only feel the breath of the cool wind that raises in my sleeves.
Where is Elysium? Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither.
~Lu T’ung
This poem is beautiful! Seven cups of tea to perfection!
nikewrites,
I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for stopping by and commenting. Visit again soon!
The last lines of the poem have been debated for centuries with some arguing that poet refrained from drinking the seventh cup, while others argue that he did in fact consume the seventh cup. I am curious as to your thoughts on the question.
Nathan,
After re-reading the poem, I would have to agree that he did not drink the seventh cup.
This is a wonderful poem and I’d have to agree that the 7th cup was never consumed. Drinking the 7th cup would mean he could never enjoy the simple purity a cup of tea offers for he would no longer be of this earth. Great reading!
Alex Ball,
So glad you enjoyed the poem. Thank you for taking the time to contemplate the meaning of the poem and sharing your thoughts.