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The first cup moistens my lips & throat; the second cup breaks my loneliness; the third cup searches my innermost being…. The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration - all the wrong of life passes away through my pores. At the fifth cup I am purified; the sixth cup calls me to the realms of the immortals. The seventh cup - ah, but I could take no more! I only feel the breath of cool wind that rises in my sleeves.Lo Tung, T’ang dynasty poet
