All my life I've loved mountains and streams,
And in old age my heart remains the same.
Whenever I hear of a scenic place,
I long to see it, fearing any delay.
Though the distance may be far,
I do not fear the weariness of travel.
Even if I cannot reach it in person,
I will surely visit it in my night dreams.
In my later years, the place I chose to dwell,
Lies half within the emerald mists.
Where both mountains and waters are splendid,
And the scenery is perfectly harmonious.
When others come to gaze upon this,
Their hearts and eyes are already delighted.
But if I see it in a dream,
Then it surpasses even this reality.
High peaks and flowing streams,
Everywhere are rugged and wondrous.
Among them are towers and pavilions,
With golden hues and jade gleams still shining.
So deep, perilous, and strangely bizarre,
All unseen by the mortal world.
I deem it must be a grotto of immortals,
Beyond what worldly men can know.
Never thought my mortal frame,
Could gain entry here to wander and play.
Suddenly as if startled awake,
It felt like returning from heaven above.
Is this not the Creator's work,
Not opposing human desires?
Knowing my refined taste,
He specially presented this to me.
Alas, I am now old,
All worldly affairs abandoned and left behind.
Yet I still have a debt to mountains and waters,
Unable to forget the thoughts in dreams.
One day perhaps I'll shed this mortal coil,
Unwilling to assume any worldly form.
I only wish to go to the seas and mountains,
To keep my rendezvous with Master Red Pine.