Amongst the flowers I

　　am alone with my pot of wine

　　drinking by myself； then lifting

　　my cup I asked the moon

　　to drink with me， its reflection

　　and mine in the wine cup， just

　　the three of us； then I sigh

　　for the moon cannot drink，

　　and my shadow goes emptily along

　　with me never saying a word；

　　with no other friends here， I can

　　but use these two for company；

　　in the time of happiness， I

　　too must be happy with all

　　around me； I sit and sing

　　and it is as if the moon

　　accompanies me； then if I

　　dance， it is my shadow that

　　dances along with me； while

　　still not drunk， I am glad

　　to make the moon and my shadow

　　into friends， but then when

　　I have drunk too much， we

　　all part； yet these are

　　friends I can always count on

　　these who have no emotion

　　whatsoever¹； I hope that one day

　　we three will meet again，

　　deep in the Milky² Way.