Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine, No friends at hand, so I poured alone; I raised my cup to invite the moon, Turned to my shadow, and we became three.

Shade and light are different in every valley.

Since Life is but a Dream, Why toil to no avail?

To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.

The living is a passing traveler; The dead, a man come home.

I bow in reverence to the white cloud.

Forever and forever and forever