Without cause, gathering and scattering, a thousand forms emerge,
Originally, it's the light and clear single breath that floats.
Through all ages, time and light—how could they decay?
The scenes of the four seasons naturally shift and flow.
Precious blossoms, rich fragrance, pervade the triple realm;
Colorful banners, misty haze, pass over the ten isles.
From afar, not smoke, it veils the phoenix towers;
Up close, like tassels, rising from the dragon's pool.
Remnant clouds reflect the sun, shining clear and bright;
A white silk scroll spans the sky, not yet rolled up at dusk.
Returning rafts on the distant Han River drift far and wide;
A lone crane in the azure sky, serene and leisurely.
Startled birds and fleeing beasts, their feelings need no waiting;
Battle steeds and wind-blown sails, their momentum cannot stay.
Singing loudly by the Si River adds to sighs and feelings;
A fading dream at Yang Terrace becomes idle sorrow.
A broken rainbow, setting sun, the river town at twilight;
Pale moon, sparse stars, the forbidden precinct in autumn.
Crossing the ridge, sometimes I follow the old woodcutter;
By the stream, I chat and wander with a wild monk.
Long overcast, vast and boundless, layer upon layer accumulates;
Suddenly clearing, drifting and falling, piece by piece, serene.
Awaiting things to act, I sigh at the lingering shadow;
Riding the waves, rashly touching, I laugh at the empty boat.
The immortal's five-colored clouds follow the phoenix carriage;
On the sea's surface, a thousand fathoms, a mirage tower stands.
Snow's intent, low and thick, grieves the traveler's lodge;
The year's dawn, yellow and moist, delights the farmer's fields.
At first faint, touching the rocks, just a tiny bit;
Yet before the morning ends, it spreads across the nine regions.
Life-giving work done, it yields to thunder and rain;
Mindless, it returns again to the old mountain peak.