Pillowed on streams, I rinse my ears, a cure for my craze for rocks and springs;
Ascending heights, I scrape my eyes anew to take in mountains and streams.
The Grand Purity Palace's view flies out from the celestial realm,
Level ground divides to bestow the bliss of scattered immortals.
Knowing the ford relies on the steadfast pine of the great officer,
Yielding the path is especially diligent, the tree of the recluse.
Layered peaks break dawn, clouds of morning glow scatter like silk,
Broken shores hold the sky, mist drapes like fine gauze.
Distant bounds all return to a grain's hiding,
The vein so near, why toil to shrink the staff's head?
I fret not the wind might blow my light boat back,
But delight more in the village linked by winding narrow paths.
Marvels contain the Way's virtue, over five thousand words,
Far surpassing the thirty-six cave-heavens.
The black ox unharnessed follows lazy repose,
The treasure lion arches back, long crouching.
Still remaining, a whetstone room glitters with golden stars,
What need for soft sect to support the jade bureau?
Before the cliff, sun and moon keep their own morn and eve,
Beyond things, heaven and earth know neither cold nor warmth.
The serpent's spirit must transform, awaiting its time;
The leopard hides, only with neighbors, casually shares divination.
All know contentment and joy are without limit,
Who thinks the lingering goodness is not solitary?
Two pillars prop the sky, giving life to the eight wilds,
One stream becomes timely rain, ripening all grains.
Deeply I sigh, coming late to repay times past,
How can I bear sparse travels beyond a couple nights?
The foolish boy in vain makes a picture of Xie Kun,
Sitting, I advance through cause and brightness to the valley under heaven.