Song of the Sword and the Celestial Steed
By Phan Tan Hai
Raising the cup—lips already warm,
the tongue still tingling as we laugh and go.
Tomorrow’s winds may rage—what of it?
Hair once green now silver, we wager life and fate.
I wander through mountains, my brow touched by green peaks;
in every distant city, clouds still drift.
Under the moon I laugh and ask—tell me,
does blood tonight carry the fragrance of wine?
Tilting the cup, the wine spills down my hand;
drunk, I repay a thousand wild waves
for the childhood days they stole.
Laughing aloud, I ask—are you drunk yet?
I am drunk for a thousand lifetimes
on the shore between life and death.
Roaming through this dusty, mistaken world,
our oath-wine mixed with blood beneath the moon.
At midnight I call the mountains and rivers to rise—
the celestial steed returns, hooves ringing in moonlight.
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