Curling Up with a Lovely Cup of Tea

It's Friday night and my legs are sore from work.  This is my moment to de-tox and unwind with a good cup of tea before going to bed.  Don't worry, Chrysanthemum tea has no caffeine.

Here's a poem by Sushi (蘇軾  SUE-SHRRR, not raw fish) that captures the feeling:

   (btw, this is "The Metal Bodhisattva", my favorite kind of tea)

 

汲江煎茶

蘇軾

活水還須活火煮，自臨釣石取深清

大瓢貯月歸春甕，小杓分江入夜瓶

雪乳已翻煎處腳，松風忽作瀉時聲

枯腸未易禁三碗，坐聽荒城長短更

 

Jian Tea from River Well Water

by Sushi

translated by me, Yoyo

 

Live water still needs a live flame to boil, I fetch clean deep water from the fishing stone.

A big dipper holds the moon returning to a spring vase, the little ladle parts the river entering a nocturnal pot.

Snow froths as tea leaves roll, pine wind whips as it flows.

My parched innards cannot easily take three forbidden cups, I sit and hear the lonely city's uneven night toll drum.