Silk from Wu looms, cold and fine, / Unfurls and rolls, a dazzling line.
Autumn shears cut a screen so new, / Its size and fold to shape are true.
A master craftsman sought with care, / I linger, pondering what to share.
In moments, a grand design takes hold, / A thousand miles in one scroll unfold.
Gaze fixed, the view begins to clear, / Too vast to count, it draws me near.
Mountains in chaos, endless they seem, / Embracing weight in a layered dream.
The highest peak stands proud and lone, / A mighty force, uniquely shown.
Ranges link in a circling embrace, / Like beasts that crouch or rush in chase.
Proudly they stride across the land, / Competing with stars, perilous and grand.
Deep within, I suspect snow's accumulation, / And sense the touch of mist's dark saturation.
Springs emerge from the azure sky, / Swollen streams by cliffs held high.
From afar, they wind with gentle grace, / Branching to feed each valley's space.
Light boats drift upon their flow, / Upstream or down, no haste they know.
A narrow path I seek and find, / Breaks through the green hillside, unconfined.
The distant view extends without an end, / Ascending, clouds I dare to offend.
Where will the wanderer's journey cease? / He halts his horse, looks round in peace.
The massive rock has long lain still, / Who built this empty plain on hill?
Dusty air reveals a barren wood, / Ancient customs in the scene have stood.
Bright flowers play in subtle grace, / Luxuriant trees their shade embrace.
Left oxen climb the rocky crest, / Startled deer from thickets pressed.
Vivid scenes in countless forms appear, / Pointed out, a grain they seem, not near.
Though shaped by human hand and might, / It feels like eerie darkness taking flight.
In the deep hall, I recline to rest, / High pillow brings a distant quest.
The lingering light glows on quilt and screen, / Cool thoughts on curtain and mat convene.
My foolish scolds the world ignores, / Lazy in bed, my craving soars.
Thus aiding pleasant dreams at night, / Would I care for the rising morning light?
Ministers may have talents rare, / But streams and rocks are my true care.
In scholarly woods, shame not profound, / From worldly traps, I seek unbound.
Wedding burdens lightly borne, / Farming and fishing I have sworn.
This screen I hold for solace deep, / In waking dreams, my thoughts will leap.