“Joy is the best of wine.” -
George Eliot
On the ninth day of the ninth moon, the Chinese celebrate
Chrysanthemum Day. This is to honour
T’ao Yuan-Ming, a poet who loved chrysanthemums above all other flowers as they bloomed in frosty autumn when all other blossoms were long dead. Chrysanthemum wine is drunk to ensure a long life. The Japanese adopted the same festival on the same day and named it
Choyo-no-Sekku. It is celebrated nowadays with many chrysanthemum shows and competitions for the best blooms.
Drinking Wine, VI built my house amongst the throng of men,
But there is no din of horse or carriage going by.
You ask me, puzzled, “How can such a paradox arise?”
When the heart’s remote, all earthly things stand aloof.
I cut chrysanthemums by the eastern hedge,
Afar on the horizon shimmer the southern hills;
How good the highland air is at sunset…
The flying birds in company come to their nests.
In this is true beauty, real savour,
But probing inside myself, I find no apt words.
T’ao Yuan-Ming (365-427 AD)
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