As usual, at my little pool’s edge I drink

Illumined by the pendulous moon’s disc—

A pot of wine sinks into the thick grasses

Because this evening hour—alone I drink

Without a boon companion of mine,

My good compotator from the nearby

Daoist temple who often shares

My booze with me once dropping in

At my place. Tonight the moon I invite

As a company instead, and with

My ubiquitous shade we make the trio

Of old soaks. Her Majesty Moon,

Reflecting brightly in the pool, I can see,

Does not drink from the wine-pot

Whilst my shade silently follows my hand,

Now up now down, pushing me forward

A fit of my loneliness and blues.

I am going to keep this silent company

For some more time and then

I’ll wend my way to the nearby village

To have a real gaiety throughout the night

In high gear of the Mid-Autumn Feast,

As only joys shared with others,

They say, are more enjoyed, my friend!