欲寻轩槛列清尊,江上烟云向晚昏。
须倩东风吹散雨,明朝却待入华园。
I want to find a balcony with a railing for my wine jar.
On the river, clouds of mist rise up as day grows dark.
I'm waiting for a sweet east wind to blow the rain away
And waiting for the sun to rise to land on this green shore.
As a serious drinker, Zhang Xu knows his priorities. I'm doubtful that the wine will last till dawn. What I like most about his poetry is its, his, individual voice. He skips all of the common words and phrases that bang around inside so many poems of his time. He only uses them to make fun of them, I think.
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