When an Immortal misbehaves,
his penance is to live with men
until, reborn among their graves,
he dies to join the gods again.
One such soul was called Li Po.
Too whimsical for palace life,
the poet roved, incognito,
unfettered by a son or wife.
Spurning the aristocracy,
he traipsed tipsily through the South
and left his deathless poetry
to grace many a drunkard's mouth.
One night, teaching the moon to sing,
he bent close to her mirrored face.
The jealous river, listening,
gathered him in her chill embrac
his penance is to live with men
until, reborn among their graves,
he dies to join the gods again.
One such soul was called Li Po.
Too whimsical for palace life,
the poet roved, incognito,
unfettered by a son or wife.
Spurning the aristocracy,
he traipsed tipsily through the South
and left his deathless poetry
to grace many a drunkard's mouth.
One night, teaching the moon to sing,
he bent close to her mirrored face.
The jealous river, listening,
gathered him in her chill embrac
