Did Chuang Tzu dream
he was a butterfly,
Or the butterfly
that he was Chuang Tzu?
In one body's
metamorphoses,
All is present,
infinite virtue!
You surely know
Fairyland's oceans
Were made again
a limpid brooklet,
Down at Green Gate
the melon gardener
Once used to be
Marquis of Tung-ling?
Wealth and honour
were always like this:
You strive and strive,
but what do you seek?
Li Po
translated by Arthur Cooper | 
