This mountain holds wondrous sights,
The four wilds stretch far in view.
Near peaks rise like spears and swords,
Distant ridges stand as lotus blooms.
Clouds and mist glow with color,
The weather shifts from mild to bleak.
Birds sing tunes unknown by name,
Fine scents of blooms are there to grasp.
The temple nestles in hills and vales,
First ground marked by books and ink.
The hall of practice gleams gold and jade,
Pure offerings delight the humble fare.
Incense of Buddha drifts all day,
The Dharma drum booms at dawn.
A sudden wind sways through the woods,
Celestial music follows with the shake.
The sacred spring first clears the mind,
Warm waters soon fill the hollow.
Different sources judge heat and cold,
Touching all things, cleansing myriad dust.
The river road southwest runs long,
Ink-wash painting colors softly fade.
Gulls pierce the azure sky,
Masts and sails emerge from reeds.
We men engage in deep pursuit,
Utmost realms turn more serene.
Awakening to truth, the heart knows itself,
Gaining insight, the head nods alone.
Cutting thatch, the ground lies smooth and bright,
Laying foundations, the soil is firm and strong.
Tall pines guard the gate's threshold,
Strange rocks line the sunken pits.
Returning to origins was carefree,
Knowing strategy values courage bold.
In declining years, I cherish hair and temples,
In stout heart, I bare my liver and gall.
Always I've held my head high,
How could I ever bear the gloom?
Leaving office differs from many ranks,
Holding sleeves, I sigh at missed chances.
High virtue is hard to follow,
Weak constitution brings self-reflection.
Shoulders ache from burdens borne,
Unhealed, ashamed of this worn belt.
I wish to say, be my neighbor,
Rather than leave me with lasting regret.
Now as the mulberry and elm scene sets,
The fading light will soon turn dim.