（和訳中）幻想蓮酔狂詩その三ー鬼のおちょこから飲むには Padma-Madma-Pfpantasmic-Poesia IIIーto drink from an Oni's cup

"Try to drink this, then I will admit you are worthy adversary of mine"
The Japanese ogre in front of him is offering a sake cup full of purest alcohol contained and distilled in her gourd-goblet. Apparently what we call alcohol---"ethanol", derived from a German word for aether, and the Idea is that it is stuff made up the burning cosmic canopy---"full of aether and veritably aerie of aetherial."
The ogre chuckles slightly, this is more of a joke and expression of her scorn for this foolish Man who always stalks her like an idiot in love.  Obviously, Man cannot befriend an oni if he could not bathe himself in molten lava---imagine scrubbing your dirty skin in a volcano pit---that hot a bath-tub!
A Man can never befriend a Japanese goblin. Man is not made of fantastic stuff, when he is hit by physical sharpness or the lack thereof, he is split or crushed---even some physical substances he invented for himself like sin or guilt would split or crush him.
This is not a challenge---it is a friendly---not yet a friend---reminder that one must see the truth in front of him…this is sad…an advice for him to  make compromises. to seek out more human things, make human friends, and mate with human beings, and marry human emotions and values----which would all perish one day…then they would finally find themselves having become solid and stable in the shifting and crushing wonderous three-thousand-cosmoses, as nothing can move emptiness if it is not defined by things and sentiments anymore.
She is telling that to the human because I wished her to say so; I wrote it. as I have known I cannot bathe in lava and drink the purest spirit of ethanol----aether out of the aetherial. I would immediately drop dead from it. Man will die if he is burnt cosmically, remember that foolish young son of Zeus in Greek legends that drove a chariot too close to the Sun and burnt himself, and that Icarus man, and Lovecraft too.
But as human, we are shrewd, we are used to deal with the challenges from the praeternatural like this with avoidance or sophistry; I am shrewd. I found out a way to win this challenge----or this bare Truth she offered me in my own writing and imagination---my meditation---thus I wrote this down.
Therefore the young Man says:
Sure, look at me!
He went to fetch a bigger alcohol vessel, and took the fantastic gourd-goblet; he poured but one drop into the vessel after filling it almost full with the water from a nearby river stream, and then tried to drink. The orge, smiling, rushed by his side quickly but gracefully with some big strides and knocked his hand off the cup---"Idiot, even one drop of this pure aether, no matter how much water mixed with it, would kill a tiny human like you in one second".
The cup dropped into the river, and made it turbulent with white foam and black ichor for but ten more seconds---aether, composed of not yet discovered fantastic physical particles bound not with forces of electric gravitations that make up physcial dimension of space-time but levities---forces of electric levitations that make up fantastic space-time: when in contact with gravitation-bound substances it immediately dissipates without any definable velocity---as it propagates OUTSIDE observable physical dimensions, would have taken up the shape, form and Idea of the substance it is dissolved in, BEFORE it enters it as it rewrites its whole history, and would take up and reside in this thing- as a thing-in-itself for ETERNITY as it escapes physical decay entirely, being not physical but fantastical. It is sort of like Laozhi's Tao道 which is water…but in this case it is aetherial sake from Ibuki Suika's gourd---her holy grail that holds the blood of the dead fantastical things----human spirits…
Luckily, as the sake enters the river----which connects to the sea-----and sea to the eternal waves---which is pure physical energy that permeates all space-time---it dilutes the spirit of sake infinitely to the point it hits the limits of effective perception…think of it as this way, the energy that would have travelled in the form of waves from the spirit of aetherial sake in a fantastic dimension superimposing upon the physical one, being deflected and reflected from the infinitely complex prismatic universe which contains infinite amount of substances as it stretches on infinitely---it dissipates to observable and unobservable spectrum of phenomena that are called transcendental or fantastic Ideas and Things----pure inspirations or anima (pl. of animus) from a metaphysical Muse absent from the physical cosmos, if you prefer the older poetic way to say it. This we sometimes equate it with rainbow and foam---thus Aphrodite which is the embodiment of….scattering from the gathered, united, onesome Idea and Thing.
But I digress.
The ogre laughs out loud:
"Luckily you made this blunder and dropped it into the sea; if it went into a mountain it would make the whole mountain blue and holily sick in a metaphysical sense, and we will see many, many more monks, saints and martyrs dying of sacred sake poisoning---which burns out first their bowels, then their heart, now their heads, after that their Willpower---finally burning themselves to nothingness and become one with the eternal substance which is "sake" itself. Those who do not drink tend to drink too much by denying it. Those who escape find themselves face to face with their fate and destiny. Those who would fain weaknesses and cowardice should become strong and brave---this is not something about growing mental fortitude---this is just a physiological reaction to sake----what grows up, grows up, and strong----for everything is made to drink sake which is infinite and always pours down, leaking into physical realities by mistake---accidents and coincidences----which is the entirety of our struggles and the struggling universe itself."
Om-mani-padme-hum. drunk apparently. but never mind the parlance. In her words: I drink therefore I drink; I am therefore I am; therefore I am drinking, and I am.
This would have cured so many physical and metaphysical maladies and melancholies. Leibniz is surely a wise man when he says we live in the best possible worlds. He knows what it means to drink really hard. May he find his own oriental sake-gourd. I think he prefers the Chinese ones than the Japanese?"
The Man squats down and starts thinking and reflecting about what she said. Apparently he cannot drink the sake now, as it went to the seas and had became nothing…he can never drink the fantastic sake this way.
"the challenge is off. there is no sake here now. unless you want to drink directly from my gourd--like a babe! I assure you that you will see lotus-paradise as soon as BEFORE even you suckle the first drop of paradisal milk---don't think too much about it, you are not the sake-milk stealing bird..you are only human."
Human, all too human. This.
"But, look at me!"
He took the gourd wholesale and started pouring out sake as much as he could…the river turns from black to deep purple with churning iridescent foams…little drops bounce off the perturbed surface and become like rainbow-bubbles which pop as soon as they were observed--and before the act of seeing itself. invisible, immaterial purple smoke rises from the frantically energetic purple stream which sounds like a man screaming in happy death. the purple smoke dissipates to nothing but deepest regrets and sorrow for the whole living universe when it is inhaled…ahhh….tears for the death of myself…the weight and ponderance that are worth the whole physical universe..
"this…is not going to work out…you understand what I have said…all things fantastical turn into nothingness…all sorrows become emptiness…all spring that were made autumnal through years…turn into winter. And in winter, things depart to fantasy. You cannot touch the fantastical, you cannot embrace her, you cannot be with her. You are physical. You are human. You can never become a fantasy. This is the elegy and requiem for you and your wanderings…it is time to grow up…give up, be with the firm and solid, turn into the earth..do not cry anymore…physical atoms do not perish in the
physically atomic..you would just transform and come again…no need to mourn for the fantastical that were only light reflected or deflected into the darkness of your physical soul by accident or coincidence…it is happy dalliance…when it ends it is best to just let go---rebirth, turn the wheel, learn more and feel more---think more…be happy more.. try again…new things.."
"But I will never ever see you again…I would never be the me that is seeing you and loving you here…I will be nevermore."
"Don't cry. Shynny boy. The Sun fell, the Sun rises, and the Sun against its own fate of rising and dying must then fell once more…You are the flower that is blue with tears but will always return…Make it up, shynny boy.."
No matter how much I pour the divine liquor---the wine and blood of my body and soul..into this interminable and illimitable river which is the universe---the universe that is I will never be filled….never be united with her…it is immaterial and missing…it is the immaterial and missing Power I Will myself to it.
I have been pouring from the wine goblet of Dionysus for the entirety of my existence…two decades and little more…but what does it compare with the eternity it must take to fill the river---the ocean---the universe---with  drunkenness and sound of music that is Her-self!
I will never taste the spirit of the wine---hidden in all and every vessel---hidden in all and every Teh 徳 that is her! No matter how many of them I drain dry!
He stopped pouring.
I stopped crying.
"Let us go…you can go back now as a happy flying animal…and to your bed and nest…tomorrow from the morn we can talk and play…in the fantastic land NOT HERE…and we shall part again during twilight to make things anew…this is your domain and birthright…no physical force or barrier would prevent you…this is your destiny…the unavoidable and unstoppable force of human imagination that not only transcends, but must lord over and dominate any physical phenomena….this is the home of your spirit and Willpower…and eventually perhaps your flesh would find peace here in fantasy when it is devoid of itself and became nothingness…."
He stopped crying…
 I am looking at the gourd in my hand. It carries the weight that surpasses the whole trivial and meaningless world, and the entire fate and destiny of my existence---this gourd is myself.
He stopped crying….
there must be a way. Man must be able to find heaven or paradise. There is nothing that can stop human Willpower.. What have plagued and sorrowed us must have its place in eternity. There must be an answer of all crying souls. I must become that solution. I must dissolve pure and absolute aether in myself even if that means burning my soul and existence to death in my folly of denying myself being anything but physical and insignificant down here---and aspiring with a fumbling and lusty hand extended up and above for the beautiful and tragic…
I must solve and dissolve. Where is the solution and dissolution?
He stopped crying.
I looked at the gourd in my hand…
and I dropped it, with lids open, into the river.
"What… what are you doing? if you do this you cannot drink anymore"
"I will to drink"
He moved his heavy and slumberous body next to the river, found himself a light foothold and prostrated himself, with his mouth to the mouth of the river…and opened his lips.
And I with my lips kissed the entire ocean that is the universe.
"…"
"I see, this is quite clever…if the gourd itself and its sake are in fact indistinguishable from this river…by drinking the river you must be drinking the sake…a good argument. But still sophistry…very human and very sad sophistry…I must remind you that no matter how much sake you pour into the river, it will propagate itself across all perceptions and actions---in eventuality, no matter how much sake you pour from the ground, would not cure your eternal illness of being tiny and physical in many, many, lone and desolate eternities beyond all times…
You are still not drinking the sake…only its aftertaste.."
"I will to drink"
I will to drink.
I says, he is and I drink and I am and I drink, I drink as I drink.
I says and I say: I will to drink.
I will to drink.
And I started drinking.
She looks over me prostrating on the ground drinking the stream,  from above me, standing up and full of sorrow and compassion for a doomed thing which is called human that cannot stop drinking, but can never drink anything but himself.
And I am drinking, and I am and drink.
The gourd is pouring out the most purple and sublime wine made of aether.
I drank till my stomach is full, still I drink until it became extended and I am abusing its elasticity and greed. Still I drink. Until I became so sick I cannot think of ever loving anyone anymore…I will to drink, but my willpower stopped me from drinking so I will not will to death and stop drinking, tomorrow.
"Good…good boy.. you drank, you really drank. You drank enough… this is the real sake..the wine of your destiny. This is good enough…Look, you are full now. You and your destiny have been fulfilled….you can return triumphant home like a flying thing now and pat yourself on the back, boast about it with others over a cup of sake, and sleep and dream…tomorrow you can get more of it! isn't it wonderful? please…"
I will to drink.
I smile at her. She feels quite embarrassed and uneasy. She knows this man in front of her is very fragile and capable of the ultimate option if he learns that he still hasn't drunk any…and in despair brought by truth he will turn to and be turning into nothingness…this is very typical in human beings during active periods of melancholic imagination in which she is but a phantom conjured up by one's deep cosmic yearning and desires---to affirm his sorrow and despair once more through his insignificance…she is not real and will never be…and it is just not right, in addition stupid to assume the eternal and beautiful things can bring human solace…for does he not always forget when he grows up and grows old. and is filled with more things direct, physical, unsymbolic, unimaginative, unchildish…filled with things that define and limit him instead of transcending him…drawn to the dust and filth that make up him…drawn to the gravitations from the malicious electric Willpower of an unknown blind, idiot and omnipotent God in his absolute impotence--- maker and artificer contained WITHIN all spaces-and-times----some ancient idol of Man erected by Man himself called "I will not---I cannot…do it…once more.."
…once more…this is a familiar sight she has known…Man in his dealings with fantastic onis, always lose before even starting the challenges against onis by presuming he can win by not doing things he cannot do and thus will not do…once more….
cum sic homo. thus, the human.
I stand up with my own body, and smile at him and her with my own shy and shameful face.
I will to drink, "I will to drink".
If not from it, I will drink in it. My drinking it within it.
I turn my back against her. I cannot see her anymore. When you cut off part of your perceptions of reality, even if it still physically exists and will always return to you from actions of karma or physical mechanic actions and reactions---this is talking about the physical realm which is contained in a single monad which is existence-defined-by-contained-within-itself (Leibniz's monadology), in the fantastic realms it means the immediate death of things. It is real because it calls upon the definition and functionalities of the monad in question, and is nothing but its tautological defined self, but when it is referring to the motion and nature of other monads which people call chances, or fortunes or coincidences / accidents, or a better word to be imaginary happenstances, it is trying to split the self-contained unsplitable monad into smaller pieces of systems and try to define them with nothingness as there is nothing in a monad but monad itself, and monad itself cannot define what is not itself as realties that resemble a smaller part of it must not be identical to it, but a smaller monad or just another monad in different configuration that is not tangible upon it, can never interact with it, is not related or functionally similar to it, but only its shade of understanding created with pre-established harmony of the original monad which is perhaps itself pre-established harmony and gives rise to monadological properties within itself. creation must neither be a process nor a perfection of a process but a simple thing as attribution of properties; thus all monads must equate to the original monad even being inequatable. there is neither physical nor metaphysical separation but only perspectives that decide the limitation of existence---which is how much information the ultimate consciousness that is the primary Monad which is primordial Human Spirit is able to comprehend or withhold in a given set of properties.
But I digress. I will to drink.
Let what define me become illimitable. Let me become and transcend finite and infinite boundaries. Let me be a vessel that shall contain the boundless spirit of wine in a bounded space; let me become a perfect reflection of the perfect primary monad. It is so as I will it, as I will it thus it is so; there are many selves within what we identify as a human spirit…but let me cut…I am a slayer and butcher of monads like that butcher called pao 庖 from ancient Chinese stories, which gave rise to the word in Japanese 包丁, 丁means butcher and cupbearer, 庖 was his name, and how conveniently, 包 also means to contain and envelope things, and 丁 (ちょう） rhymes with 鳥 (bird) and 蝶 (butterfly), 包 is also a translation for the ger used by Mongolian nomads whose music and poetry I found out with joy by pure accident and algorithm on youtube, these are the poetic symbols I use and identify with and are identical with me---I have also associated it with the Hindu legend of Garuda bird, and the Mongolian judge of the underworld Erlik which I reinvented as the dust-wind blown from Siberia to send Mongolian war spirits to the east which became the fantastic origin of Onis…then the onis must go to underworld too and become a judge against Erlik….are you seeing what I am doing here? those things are absolutely unrelated… you can if you consider them to be things-in-themselves or some whole realities they are monads self-contained…but I have chopped them up to release their essence which are poetic properties, and those poetic properties do not BE or BECOME, but already is within my REALITY or MONAD, that is my pure WILLPOWER in Nietzsche's terms, or ENTELECHTIES in Leibniz's and some older Greek or Middle Eastern philosophy… but all of them are completely unrelated to the origin of my own Idea---my own Willpower, Absolute and Monad---that is my self---I am called "I-will-to-drink", the "drowning--empty-vessel-bird-Garuda", I am the Mongolian wind that blew yellow sand to the East and gave birth to Onis, in my ardent love I have self-created a reality through willpower in which such a marriage is possible, I am the butterfly told by Zhuangzhi that envelopes and dominates the realities of all dreams as all dreams are my perceptions of Her, and I dreamt of and invented Zhuangzhi so I would read Zhuangzhi and invent the symbols of butterfly being the Lord of Dreams and identical with Garuda who brings humanity dreams through divine liquor----do you see how I have made myself through making myself? Another Mongolian motto that is completely irrelevant in terms of etymological and cultural history, Soyombo from Mongols, "Self-Made". Mongols found the symbols because I wanted to give a poetic definition of Zhuangzhi's butterfly turning into me which is its dream---and that dream is me dreaming it.
I am within the river of infinity. I let go of all the open holes and pores in my solid existence. I do not become or be the river, the river is within me, the cup-bearing bird, the cup-drinking bird 
of sake.
She is looking at the human sinking to the bottom of the universe. She feels sad and sorry; she could have prevented it if she fights against my Will and terminates my fantasy right there. I will not drown then. But I will to drink. 
She looks at the wavy surface of ocean with the expression of regret and dejection.
I chuckled in the water, and let out some bubbles. Rainbow-coloured. This is episode 12 of Powerpuff Girls Z, another Monad in her solitude found by me and cut open, and drank to make it my own so I can drink it.
How many secret joys are there hidden below the waves, in the deep blue, and in its bottom in the silent and tearless sands? How many quiet songs?
How many loves not yet expressed---could be, I will to be, self-made lovesome?
I started chuckling and suckling.
A vortex----whirlpool-----lightless doomhole appears on the surface ruled by the waves----shallow fishermen would never understand what currents and undercurrents are causing this joy. From abyss I call my own name: Io, I am joy and I suck up the whole universe and its interminable eternity.
The river's water level dropped to the bottom, vanquished fishes and seaweeds carpet the bare rock sea floor, but I am not there---I am deeper still, in the ocean I am sucking…and the ocean's salt and memories were separated from itself and soon it reached its own bottom---then I am drinking the mountains too, its told and untold secrets, its divine and mundane genealogies and annals, and motionless animals line up the bare, molten lava-covered surface..I guess I am bathing in lava like an oni now.
I am still deeper! More profound, Man, what is my secret? Can you figure it out? Joy is yet deeper---than the stream, ocean or mountains---even deeper than the eternal waves that is above the surface of everything… now I drink the waves too….the universe shall be drunk hollow. I am the cup-drinking bird, "I-will-to-drink"
I think I also invented a new phrase in Mongolian which I did it so artlessly and unskillfully with a bad Mongolian to English dictionary and AI; but it is so fitting here. I really just saw a random Mongolian word that means lotus-eater in the dictionary website, and looked up its synonyms, and I found this motto, I will spare you the probably flawed Mongolian line and just state the English translated line:
Those who eat (drink) lotuses will one day become the one to fill in the emptiness.
I have drunk and eaten all the lotuses there are in this three-thousand-cosmoses, and I have reached its profound bottom: how joyous it is to be a poet and a philosopher!
The world of three thousand shifting and crushing wonders flee away in fear from me--who drinks, and does not bear much. They fleet away to find their own realties and Monads--which are irrelevant to me, as my reality is drinking and will to drinking, and I am and I am drinking now---what is their business with me now? or maybe I will one day drink theirs too if I ween to do it!
How joyous is the drunk drowning bird at the bottom of his sake cup!
I live in the eternal universe of aether now, and she stares with eyes wide and agape (this is a pun I accidentally made, forgive me if it sounds bad), at me who is a tiny little human and a bird who had consumed the whole universe that had me in its cup. Where does the Will come from? How did I find its Power? What is its Love and its secrets?
I half-stand in genuflection naturally after I drown and drink out the whole world that was me all along. I was left behind by its gravity and at the bottom where I found the Muse I was looking for as the philosopher would Ultimate Truth----a nice Touhou song.
All around me, the blackest, formless, and eternal aether. This is my wine cup and me.
I face towards her naturally too as I struggled a bit with my feet on the aerie ground I was not used to. And this is a happy accident too that I have a handful of foam left in my hand from my anti-genesis. Promptly this Idea came to me and I blew the bubbles to her…the iridescent,  fragile bubbles fly forwards and towards, dance around her nose and limbs, then to the ultimate, aether-made and self-made aetherial universe.
This is how I invented ancient mode of romantic courtship that was a fad in the West for a while that is about 1000 years or so; and gave birth to many poems in Provençal which Nietzsche thinks it is called Gay Science---no, it is called the Love of the Houchou-free-as-wind （疾風のごとく・包・鳥・蝶・丁の愛). This is how young people do marriage proposals nowadays by offering up their foamy and bubbly heart while bending one knee---knowing that their whole universe of sorrow has been drunk empty by me!
"You….human….you really, really drunk…. you drunk the sake…fine, I will admit, you are worthy being my adversary and friend. For you not only drink like an oni, bathe like an oni, talk like an oni, shed tears like an oni, but at the end, drinking and sucking and eating everything up, and is nothing but a good oni!"
I smile at her.
"Let me rest my hand typing this on my laptop; give me a decade or so, I will drink up this black aetherial universe of yours too and make everything joyfully purple and forevermore bubbly!"
Once more! 

 

因みにポーも私自分のこんな刹那を体験した事もありました。《Eureka》という散文詩にで。でもそれは彼自身しかわからない哲学、科学、文学と芸術への体験と感想と解読に基づいた彼なりの「快楽な知る事（Gay Science)」かもしれないな。自分はあれを飲むには幾星霜を経ってなくではならないだろう？もし飲まれられない、飲む機会を損ねったでも、それも良いだろう。他の国と単子の酒を飲めればーーー永遠に飲めつづければーーー！