"Song of Seven Bowls of Tea" by Lu Tong

The Life of Lu Tong: A Man Who Drank Too Much Tea

Lu Tong (卢仑) (790-835) was one of those guys who probably preferred quiet mornings with a steaming bowl of tea over just about anything else in life. While the world outside was tangled in the political chaos of the Tang Dynasty, Lu Tong wasn't interested in fame or fortune. Instead, he gave himself the nickname Yuchuanzi (玉川子), like saying, “I'm just the 'Master of Yuchuan,' chilling out here in my own little world.”

His love for tea ran so deep that he basically wrote the original tea-lover's manifesto.

The Famous Poem: "Seven Bowls of Tea" (七碗茶歌)

One day, Lu Tong received a gift of fresh tea leaves from a government official, Meng Jianyi. As a poet with a flair for expressing every little feeling, Lu Tong responded the only way he knew: by writing a playful poem about how each bowl of tea affects him.

He starts with the first bowl soothing his throat. With the second bowl, the loneliness starts to lift. By the third bowl, his mind kicks into gear. By the time he's on his fourth and fifth bowls, he's sweating, all the frustrations of his life pour out of him through his pores, and he feels cleansed down to his bones. On the sixth bowl, he's basically in Zen mode. Then comes the seventh bowl — at this point, Lu Tong throws his hands up: "I can't drink anymore!" He feels a cool breeze under his arms, as if the tea has made him so light and free that he could just ride the wind and fly away.

Lu Tong's Legacy

Lu Tong's poem struck a chord because it's about more than tea — it's about life. Tea isn't just a drink for him; it's a journey, a way to reflect, laugh, let go of frustrations, and even find some peace, if only for a little while.

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Seven Bowls of Tea

With the first bowl, my throat and lips are moistened.
The second bowl breaks the loneliness inside.

The third bowl explores my impoverished mind,
Bringing out five thousand scrolls of ancient texts.

The fourth bowl brings a light sweat, and every injustice I have suffered dissipates through my pores.

The fifth bowl cleanses my skin and bones.
The sixth bowl lifts and connects me with mysterious immortals.

The seventh bowl I dare not finish,
I only feel a cool, gentle breeze stirring beneath my arms.

Where is Mount Penglai?
Yuchuanzi*, will ride this breeze, wishing to return home.

* Yuchuanzi - the literary name of the Chinese poet Lu Tong

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七碗茶歌
一碗喉吻润，二碗破孤闷。
三碗搜枯肠，唯有文字五千卷。
四碗发轻汗，平生不平事，尽向毛孔散。
五碗肌骨清，六碗通仙灵。
七碗吃不得，唯觉两腔习习清风生。