A Poem Split Into Two Cups
The poem inscribed across this pair of cups is Song Qi's 《浪淘沙》, a Song-dynasty farewell written from a departing boat: youth treated time carelessly, didn't notice the seasons slipping past, and only now — moon full, flowers full, wine full — does the speaker regret not paying closer attention while there was still time. The boat is about to untie from the willow bank; the feast is breaking up as the sun goes down; rowing away, the speaker looks back at water, sky, and the people growing distant all at once.
The poem is split across the two cups — half on one, half on the other — so that no single cup carries the whole thought. You need both, side by side, to read it in order. The cups themselves are fully hand-thrown Jingdezhen porcelain, a veteran craftsman working the wheel, glazed in a Chenghua-reproduction style, the calligraphy painted in cobalt blue beneath the glaze.
Reading a poem usually doesn't require a second person. This one, by design, almost does.