Tea Time
Let's taste a cup of tea:
The afternoon light illuminates the bamboo canes, the fountains sing melodiously, the sigh of the pine trees crackles before the teapot. Let dreams fade away and let ourselves be carried away by the fascinating simplicity of things.
The first cup moistens my lips and throat; the second breaks my loneliness; the third, penetrates in my entrails stirring a thousand strange thoughts; the fourth produces a slight sweat and all the sorrows of life disappear through the pores of my skin; with the fifth I purify myself; the sixth transports me to the realm of the immortals; the seventh ... Ah, the seventh! ... but I can not drink anymore, I feel a cold air running through my arms under the wide sleeves: Where is Horasan? Let me ride on the sweet breeze that leads me there!
Lu Tung, poet of the Tang dynasty.
From The Book of Tea by Okakura Kakuzo translated by Jose J. Fuente. Miraguano Editions
