The herd dazzled by deer and horses,
Alone I discern the streams Mi and Zi.
Insects and birds know not the Way,
They sever tails, fearing sacrifice.
Do plants and trees possess spirit?
Guarding feet, they're less than sunflowers.
Wisdom's sack like Chu Li Zi,
Foolishness extreme as Gu Kaizhi.
Success and ruin hang on fate,
Why scorn yesterday's faults as base?
A scholar of the court, once famed,
Stumbled into peril, lost his name.
Banished, he rests by river and sea,
A southern cap bound to Xiang's misery.
Not thinking of snakes rising from land,
He acts as a bird choosing its stand.
Hiding wisdom to seem a fool,
He names the stream, making it a rule.
The stream and hills, clear and severe,
Surrounded by jade-green, far and near.
Beneath stones, emerald dragons glide,
Through mist, long eyebrows sweep aside.
Once the breath of life is stilled,
White sun severs the ties of will.
A thick shrine hid by bamboo grove,
Autumn wind spins webs above.
Awe-inspiring, gazing a thousand years,
Avoiding the world, my true master appears.
Old things cannot be found again,
Yet mountains and rivers flourish then.
Forever longing for West Isle's stir,
Rising words of North Hill's transfer.
Joyfully I grasp the meeting's core,
Clear and bright, I doubt no more.
What use is solitary wakefulness?
I vow to drink the dregs, no less.
Lifting wine, I pour a cup's libation,
Gracefully passing two flags in rotation.
Plantains yellow match crimson lychee,
Singing this hymn to welcome deity.