The mountain's form, a coiled dragon long and deep,
Swings its tail descending to the level plain.
Returning peaks rise like mighty tortoise-bearers,
A vast hall climbs atop the cloudy summit.
Ascending, I gaze to the world's eight ends,
The sky's canopy hangs, empty and profound.
Primordial chaos, a single breath in disarray,
Ghostly things half-tumble on the path.
Heaven's wind, the Milky Way resounds,
At the window, the Dipper's handle hangs.
The imperial maps of old now scattered wide,
The Red Portent's reign was thwarted, moved away.
The desolate aura of hegemony fades,
I linger, leaning on the platform, soaring high.
Mountains and rivers remain just as before,
Alone, they charm the poet's eye.
The river's roar battles the ninefold earth,
For whom does this hidden grievance wash away?
Clear thunder rumbles through the rifted clouds,
Lightning fires search out the winding forms.
Splendid relics of bygone dynasties,
Fierce flames follow the flying smoke.
The monk-painter's six-petal Buddha,
With vivid faces, standing shoulder to shoulder.
Gossamer robes like Indra's net,
The fleshy topknot floats above blue lotuses.
The lofty Emperor of Kaiyuan,
His jade seat still hangs on high.
The vigorous brush of Master Lu,
Green rhinoceros play in fields of magic fungus.
The massive cauldron left by Xiao Liang,
Seems carved with images of traitors.
The two cypresses of the Duke of Zan,
Twisted and coiled like dragons.
Vainly burned, swept by kalpa's ashes,
I gaze through tears, mourning heaven and man.
Clang, clang, the axe and adze begin,
A thousand pillars, sudden long rafters rise.
The grey-haired guard the grass and trees,
Auspicious air seals clouds and springs.
A solitary spire, a perilous pagoda surges,
A distant Buddha, layered shadows firm.
The sea upends, the pagoda's shadow topples,
The sky turns, grinding ants in circles.
Alas, in a snap of the fingers,
Grief awakens to three lives' karma.
Life is fragile, exceedingly so,
The lamp's oil burns, consumed by worldly cares.
I sigh at those past boasts and seizures,
Asuras forging spears and shields.
I shall sound the great bell,
And call the golden immortal from Sumeru's peak.