The painter's fame rivals Cao Ba's art;
Could this man be a descendant of his line?
His spirit roams rivers and seas, far apart,
Leaving traces on walls, a legacy divine.
From the ground, startling billows surge and start,
Supporting rafters, waves in layers entwine.
Their coming stems not from a vengeful heart,
Nor does their leaving mean a whale's design.
Within a foot, abyssal dangers lie,
Yet they traverse ten thousand miles, racing by.
Their breath seems to steam the cosmos, vast and high,
Their force threatens to soak the earth and sky.
We only see him wield his lengthy brush,
Who can fathom the source, immense and lush?
Vast and deep, it stuns the gazing eye,
Swirling and plunging, almost makes one sigh.
Where clarity is about to settle in,
Gentle ripples layer, fine and thin.
A light breeze skims the Yi and Luo streams,
Wide banks flood the Xiang and Yuan, it seems.
The wrathful momentum shows power grand,
Surging waves seem to lift the very land.
The azure sea embraces divine isles,
In farthest realms, the roc in flight beguiles.
Unrestrained, he paints with carefree grace,
Arranged by nature's own creative space.
Long nurtured, it partakes in cosmic law,
Useless yet in harmony with the raw.
Years pass, the man is distant, out of sight,
Dust gathers, yet the ink retains its light.
Dimly, one meets the sea god in the haze,
As if mourning the Xiang River's spirit's gaze.
A weary traveler, burdened and confined,
Has yet to seize the raft, to leave behind.
When chance allows, I watch the boundless tide,
To wash away worldly dust, here I bide.
Let not the snail's slime cause decay or blight,
But keep the wondrous ink forever bright.
No need to sail the vast and rolling sea,
It feels like climbing Mount Kunlun, wild and free.