The thirsty Earth soaks up the Rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again. The Plants suck in the Earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and faire. The Sea itself, which one would think Should have but little need of Drink, Drinks ten thousand Rivers up, So fill'd that they o'erflow the Cup. The busy Sun (and one would guess By 's drunken fiery face no less) Drinks up the Sea, and when he's done, The Moon and Stars drink up the Sun. They drink and dance by their own light, They drink and revel all the night. Nothing in Nature 's Sober found, But an eternal Health goes round. Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high, Fill all the Glasses there, for why Should every creature drink but I, Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?
Wavelet on wavelet glimmers by the shore; Cloud on cloud dimly appears in the sky. Unsaddled is my white-jadelike horse; Drunk, asleep in the sweet grass I'll lie. My horse's hoofs may break, I'm afraid, The breeze-rippled brook paved by moonlit jade. I tether my horse to a bough of green willow. Near the bridge where I pillow My head on arms and sleep till the cuckoo's song awakes A spring daybreak.
Translation: Xu Yuanchong [translator]. 2021. Deep, Deep the Courtyard. [庭院深深.] Cite Publishing: Kuala Lumpur, p. 238
Be always drunken. Nothing else matters: that is the only question. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, be drunken continually.
Drunken with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will. But be drunken.
And if sometimes, on the stairs of a palace, or on the green side of a ditch, or in the dreary solitude of your own room, you should awaken and the drunkenness be half or wholly slipped away from you, ask of the wind, or of the wave, or of the star, or of the bird, or of the clock, or whatever flies, or sighs, or rocks, or sings, or speaks, ask what hour it is; and the wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: “It is the hour to be drunken! Be drunken, if you would not be martyred slaves of Time, be drunken continually! With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will.”
They spiked my punch.
I had no lunch.
I got so drunk, so very drunk.
Drunker than I thunk
that a man could ever be,
and I don’t know if I can trust what my eyes did see:
I saw: two elephants riding pogo sticks,
the Taj Mahal made of Lego bricks,
Ned Flanders as a creepy voyeur,
A lady talking to an honest lawyer,
goats doing kung fu in the park,
a talking dog and a man who barked,
a traffic cop with a great big smile,
the line for kicks formed in single file,
two geese played a wicked ping-pong match,
I got hit by a bus–look not a scratch.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 