涂山寺

The vulgar taste of Ba Mountain tires the eye, / Yet its myriad folds boast grandeur, high and wide.

A solitary peak stands fair before the stream, / Where green woods gird its rise, a lonely, verdant pride.

Long boats cut through the giant waves with steady might, / While plain carts climb the steep cliffs, scaling the height.

An ancient temple hides behind the mountain's back; / Approaching, one feels spirits welcome, none they lack.

Clear springs wind round the tall bamboos, a tranquil scene; / A rustic path leads deep into the reeds, serene.

This is where Nüwa, the goddess, once gave birth; / To this stone hollow, pilgrims journey on the earth.

For sage and spirit, union was by fate designed; / A heaven-made match, not by mere chance aligned.

The jade slip's tale is dim, a story vague and old; / The Yue records are crude, their truth cannot be told.

A lone pavilion crowns the summit, sheer and steep; / Sitting here, thoughts of a thousand years run deep.

Two rivers cross and weave, their waters intertwine; / Like swarming ants, close-packed houses crowd the line.

I raise my cup, laugh long, and cast all cares aside; / Beyond emotion, gaze on high, with tranquil pride.