Upon the sea, three mountains rise; south of the ridge, three caves lie.
Within the caves, the world's rare sights, few can with them vie.
To trace their source, dark and boundless; to spy their depth, seamless and profound.
Flowing springs merge with night dew; dripping stalactites in mist are bound.
Fantastic forms describe each other; mottled patterns intertwine.
Pushing back to creation's dawn, the Maker's subtle craft does shine.
Jade fields plowed by ghosts, mystic grass by heaven sown.
First wrapped as a fairy realm, later with wondrous gates grown.
My life craves joy and play; this tour I seize in haste.
Hidden traces re-explored, ancient tablets hard to recite with taste.
My playful heart not yet sated, my travel mood already stirred.
The mountain's visage smiles to detain; the water's voice weeps, its farewell heard.
The earth does not hoard its treasures; to the eye, they appear in throng.
Shapes bizarre, beyond naming, left as offerings to heavens strong.
A clanging sound of bell and chime, alone matches my refined mind.
A heavy price rewards the skilled craftsman; I gather them for my own kind.
Boxes arrayed, wife and children vie; piled on the desk, guests play and hold.
Who knows they contain harmonious tones, yet not listed in Yu's tribute of old?
The pure temple's glory for a thousand years, the heavenly music but a dream's flight.
How better to lie among the cliffs, where innate nature finds free delight?
The nature of things I judge and weigh; my own affairs, who can decide?
Both thing and self forgotten, I sit at ease, listening to birds' song beside.