South of Tianwang Peak lies the Stone Chamber Cave,
Its strange and unique form defies the common mold.
Its rocky gate, jagged and steep, by Heaven carved,
Inside lies a vast plain where carts can freely rove.
The sacred cavern, deep and wide, lies peacefully,
Walking in and out, one loses track of east and west.
Within, fantastic shapes resemble many things,
Stalactites often hang like drums and bells at rest.
A turtle's head looks down, revealing the cliff's belly,
Its age should match the endless march of time itself.
A rounded opening pierces through a thousand feet,
Allowing sun and moon to cast their radiant wealth.
Before the cave, Buddhist halls and towers rise majestic,
Facing it directly, their grandeur is enhanced.
Though I'm a petty official, bound and constrained,
Wherever I go, I won't miss hidden sites, entranced.
The Lingyan Cave of Jinhua is famed in Wu,
I often cross borders to visit, drawn anew.
I've long regretted, in Fuchuan years ago,
Missing the chance to seek the Turtle Peak's view.
For over a decade, my worldly heart felt thwarted,
Each time I saw its picture, sorrow was exhorted.
Last spring, passing this way again on my route,
My sedan met dusk mists, heavy and remote.
Though viewing it didn't sate my full desire,
It briefly filled my craving, like quenching fire.
Arriving at Pingyi, my post, a year has passed,
Buried in common duties, my spirit overcast.
Dispelling stagnation, casting off the old, takes time,
Fine pleasures can't be caged before their prime.
Now, claiming leisure hours, I've found this cave,
Its openness and freshness my dull heart did save.
Though Jinhua's Turtle Peak may not be matched,
To have this here is a rare fortune, unattached.
I casually take a blunt brush, write on white stone,
Merely to inscribe my name, and mine alone.
Then I ascend the pure temple, lodge for the night,
The morning bell still sounds before the dawn's first light.
My return whip departs in haste, with promises kept,
Later, with friends in spring breeze, we'll again have met.