Towering from beyond the heavens, in life my eyes had never known.
By the roadside I ask a passerby, pointing, "What stone is this one?"
They say it's the spirit of Jiang Lang, here his divine trace is shown.
Mountains and rivers bred this essence, shaped by yin and yang, a vessel of stone.
It stands sheer for ten thousand ren, lushly green as if about to drip.
Ethereal, rising from the mortal world, pressing close to the Great Purity's grip.
Crouched like a coiling dragon, soaring like a qilin free and grand.
Spreading like banners unfurled, gathered like a jade tablet, upright it stands.
Meeting like honored guests, mutual respect shows in their face.
Aloof like a chaste maiden, solemn and pure, not to be embraced.
Brave like Master Mao Sui, the awl's point thrusting from the sack.
Fierce like Lin Xiangru, stepping forth to guard the jade intact.
Unyielding like Fu Jiezi, his stern rebuke within three feet's space.
Upright like the Grand Historian, with rugged hand he wields the historian's grace.
Gathering such elite traits, its form manifests great wonder and might.
Who says Creation's work, upon things, carves with no light?
I come to pay respects to its pure standard, leaning on my staff, I sigh.
In recent years the Pillar of Heaven fell; who has the strength to hold the sky?
I wish to move this divine root, to prop up the northwest on high.
The essence of Three Lights and Five Peaks, I want them merged as one.
May it receive sacrifice for ten thousand years, with the state, endless as the sun.