In this pleasant, drunken haze,
My senses have sharpened,
I can smell the sandalwood,
And the falling cherry blossoms.

I can hear the water falling,
Under the passage of time,
Too majestic to care or feel,
About the rot in my mind.

I can see the birds are here,
Sparrows, cranes and swallowtails,
They are here, like me as well,
To enjoy this beautiful spectacle.

My wine is almost over,
So I begin to meditate,
Over which path I will walk,
One leads to self-destruction,
The other leads in the dark.