Dear Master Meng, I hail you from the heart,
Of your high value all the world is proud.
Red-cheek’d, from cap to cab you kept apart;
White-haired, you lie beneath the pine and cloud.
Drunken with wine as oft as with moonlight,
You love the blooms too much to serve the crown.
Of lofty mountain how to reach the height?
We can but breathe your fragrance the wind brings down.