Li Bai’s poems are celebrated for their freedom, beauty, and emotional intensity. Known as the “Immortal Poet” of the Tang Dynasty, Li Bai wrote with a spirit of romanticism and spontaneity, often inspired by wine, friendship, nature, and the moon. His verses feel light and flowing, yet they carry deep philosophical depth.
Nature in Li Bai’s poetry is not just scenery—it reflects human longing, solitude, and joy. Mountains, rivers, and moonlight become companions to the poet’s soul. His language is simple but musical, making his poems easy to read yet hard to forget.
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Li Bai’s poetry continues to inspire readers because it celebrates freedom of spirit and the beauty of living fully, beyond rules and restraints.
Quiet Night Thought
At the foot of my bed, moonlight
Yes, I suppose there is frost on the ground.
Lifting my head I gaze at the bright moon
Bowing my head, thinking of home.
Jìng yè sī
Chuáng qián míngyuè guāng
Yí shì dìshang shuāng
Jǔtóu wàng míngyuè
Dītóu sī gùxiāng
靜夜思
床前明月光
疑是地上霜
舉頭望明月
低頭思故鄉
Bring More Wine
Can’t you see?
The water in the Yellow River pours from the sky,
Rushing to the sea and never comes back?
Can’t you see?
Those who are old grieve over grey hair as they look in a mirror,
Once it was black, now, in their twilight years, snow white .
Life is meant to be thoroughly enjoyed,
Let not golden cups mirror the moon without wine.
I was born with a talent, I must make it useful,
Scattering my riches what is spent comes back.
Butchering and cooking a lamb or a bull is just pure joy,
Three hundred toasts together with wine.
Cen (Can), Dan Qiu, good friends, let’s live as well as we can,
Drink up, neglect not your cup.
Here is a song for you,
So gentlemen, listen as I pour —
Bells and drums and food as rare as jade are not what they seem,
I hope to stay drunk and never wake up.
From time immemorial, philosophers were lonely,
Only the drunks are remembered by name.
Chen Wang, of yore, gave feasts that were merry and happy,
Serving ten thousand ladles of wine, joking,
“Do as you please.”
What good host speaks of not having money?
“Directly sir, we will buy it, and I’ll drink with you.
My ‘five-flowered steed’ or rich fur are each worth a thousand pieces of gold,
Call the servant to get us good wine, let him sell these,
Together we’ll end the cares of ten thousand years.”
Li Bai, Bring More Wine, circa 760
将进酒
君不见黄河之水天上来，奔流到海不复回。
君不见高堂明镜悲白发，朝如青丝暮成雪。
人生得意须尽欢，莫使金樽空对月。
天生我材必有用，千金散尽还复来。
烹羊宰牛且为乐，会须一饮三百杯。
岑夫子，丹丘生，将进酒，杯莫停。
与君歌一曲，请君为我倾耳听。
钟鼓馔玉不足贵，但愿长醉不复醒。
古来圣贤皆寂寞，惟有饮者留其名。
陈王昔时宴平乐，斗酒十千恣欢谑。
主人何为言少钱，径须沽取对君酌。
五花马、千金裘，呼儿将出换美酒，与尔同销万古愁。
李白
Waking From Drunkenness On A Spring Day [from the Chinese]
“Life in the World is but a big dream;
I will not spoil it by any labour or care.”
So saying, I was drunk all the day,
Lying helpless at the porch in front of my door.
When I woke up, I blinked at the garden-lawn;
A lonely bird was singing amid the flowers.
I asked myself, had the day been wet or fine?
The Spring wind was telling the mango-bird.
Moved by its song I soon began to sigh,
And as wine was there I filled my own cup.
Wildly singing I waited for the moon to rise;
When my song was over, all my senses had gone.
Alone and Drinking Under the Moon
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter
translated from the Chinese by Ezra Pound
While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played about the front gate, pulling flowers
You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
And we went on living in the village of Chokan:
Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.
At fourteen I married My Lord you.
I never laughed, being bashful.
Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.
Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.
At fifteen I stopped scowling,
I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
Forever and forever, and forever.
Why should I climb the lookout?
At sixteen you departed,
You went into far Ku-to-Yen, by the river of swirling eddies,
And you have been gone five months.
The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.
You dragged your feet when you went out.
By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,
Too deep to clear them away!
The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden,
They hurt me.
I grow older,
If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you,
As far as Cho-fu-Sa.
On Climbing In Nan-King To The Terrace Of Phoenixes
Phoenixes that play here once, so that the place was named for them,
Have abandoned it now to this desolated river;
The paths of Wu Palace are crooked with weeds;
The garments of Chin are ancient dust.
...Like this green horizon halving the Three Peaks,
Like this Island of White Egrets dividing the river,
A cloud has risen between the Light of Heaven and me,
To hide his city from my melancholy heart.
In conclusion, the best poems of Li Bai continue to shine as timeless expressions of freedom, imagination, and emotional depth. His poetry blends nature, wine, friendship, and solitude into a lyrical celebration of life beyond social rules and restraints. Through simple yet musical language, Li Bai transforms moonlight, mountains, and rivers into symbols of human longing and spiritual escape. What makes his work truly powerful is its honesty—joy and sorrow exist side by side, without disguise. Even after centuries, his poems feel fresh, personal, and universal. For modern readers, Li Bai offers not just beautiful verses, but a philosophy of living freely, loving deeply, and finding poetry in the ordinary moments of life.
