Grasping at a reflection is the image here: effort spent chasing what cannot be held. The story temple editions pair with it is the best-loved legend about the Tang poet Li Bai, a famous drinker who wrote again and again about the moon. According to the tale, he was out on the river one night, drunk, saw the moon floating on the water, and leaned out to take it in his arms. He fell in and drowned. Some versions add that a whale rose and carried him off to the moon palace. Historians think he more likely died of illness in 762, but the legend stuck because it fits him so well. Our edition grades the lot middle while another grades it lower; either way the warning is clear. The moon was never in the water, and the reaching was the whole mistake.