SEVEN CUPS OF TEA

The first bowl moistens my lips and throat;

The second bowl banishes all loneliness;

The third expelled the dullness from my mind,

Inducing inspirations born from all the books I’ve read;

At the fourth cup, I begin to perspire –

life's troubles evaporate through my pores.

The fifth cup cleanses my entire being.

Six cups and I am in the realm of the Divine.

Seven cups - ah, but I can drink no more:

I can only feel the gentle breeze blowing through my sleeves,

wafting me away to the Isle of Immortality!

Lu Tung, 8th century Taoist poet

一碗喉吻润，两碗破孤闷。

三碗搜枯肠，唯有文字五千卷。

四碗发轻汗，平生不平事，尽向毛孔散。

五碗肌骨清，六碗通仙灵。

七碗吃不得也，唯觉两腋习习清风生。

蓬莱山，在何处？

玉川子，乘此清风欲归去。

 ——唐代  卢仝