IX / 58
THE EIGHT IMMORTAL DRINKERS
By Tou-Fou
(715-774)
Ho-Tchi-Tchang, always on horseback, looked like a
man rowing a boat. One evening, when he was drunker
than usual, he fell from his horse into a deep pit, and it is
my belief that he is sleeping there yet.
Yu-Yang always empties three bottles before going
to work. If he meets a grain cart he gives up all thought
of business, follows along after it, and chats with the
coolie about the fermentation of rice.
The minister, Li-Ti-Chy, could swallow a hundred
rivers. He cheerfully spends ten million
tsien,
and de–
clares that he would willingly cut off the heads of all
merchants who sell dubious wine .
When Tsoung-Tclzi savors a bottle, only the whites of
his eyes can be seen. Suddenly, there is a great noise
I
And there on the ground, like an uprooted tree, lies
Tsoung-Tchi.
The solemn Sou-Tsin nev.er drinks before the statue
of Buddha. But once outside the Monastery, if he ever
begins to drink, he must be carried back there on the
shoulders of some charitable passerby.
Under the influence of a single measure of wine
Li-Tai-Po is capable of writing three hundred verses.
v