Still air permeates,
Advancing towards the arts,
Tension and stress builds up.
Reading and learning,
To escape reality,
A scholar no more.
A shot of white wine,
A dosage of cold powder,
Two more than one should.
He neither can see,
Nor can taste, touch, smell and hear,
Yet lives fearlessly.
Flames cracking on leaves,
Echoes of threatening roars,
Yet he continues.
He prances around,
Capriciously; brazenly,
Free from the mundane.
But how free is he,
Indulging in his senses,
Disruptive chaos.
And when he awakes,
leaking somber and sadness,
longing for a truth.
– Su Shi, Song Dynasty.
(Written after viewing records about the Cold-food powder and indulgent drinking)
Mervyn Chye, U1830538H