LI BAI WRITES TO MÊNG HAO-RAN

Master, I hail you from my heart,
And your fame arisen to the skies. . . .
Renouncing in ruddy youth the importance of hat and chariot,
You chose pine-trees and clouds; and now, white-haired,
Drunk with the moon, a sage of dreams,
Flower-bewitched, you are deaf to the Emperor . . .
High, mountain, how I long to reach you,
Breathing your sweetness even here.

(Translation by Witter Bynner)

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