Cirrus@Austlit

' He had just sat down to a flagon of wine in the Phoenix Inn in Luoyang when he heard the words that he instantly recognised as a drinking poem by Tao Yuanming. There was an inebriated lilt to it, but the voice was strong and deep, the tone rousing, melodious almost. He turned and looked at the man. He had a bronze complexion, well-chiselled features, a full sensuous mouth and angular jaw beneath the smooth trim beard. From under the thick arches of his eyebrows his hooded eyes looked at you in a dreamy yet penetrating gaze. On the table lay a long sword in its jade-green scabbard. An expectant crowd had gathered around, the younger ones leaning forward in reverent attention...' (Publication abstract)