I hear south of the capital lies,
A park of mountains 'neath the skies.
From east to west, they stretch to seas,
Their vastness hard to grasp with ease.
Records and maps, obscure and old,
No clear accounts have been foretold.
I try to sum up in my verse,
But miss much more than I rehearse.
I cannot stop, though rough my art,
To sketch the scenes that touched my heart.
I climbed a mound to gaze afar,
Peaks crowded like teeth of a bar.
In clear light, edges sharp appear,
Veins fine as embroidery sheer.
Mists rise and merge in swirling flow,
Through and through, the mountains show.
Though windless, they seem to sway,
Melted in warmth, lush and gay.
Clouds pause, a level screen they make,
A few peaks through the breaks awake.
Sky floats an eyebrow, long and thin,
Fresh-painted in deep green within.
Some stand alone, steep and grand,
Like seabirds bathing, beak in hand.
Spring sun warms the moistened ground,
Washing forth beauty all around.
Though cliffs rise rugged to the sky,
They seem like wine, soft and high.
In summer's heat, trees thrive and spread,
Shading the paths where feet have tread.
Spirits sigh, the vapors race,
Building cloud-forms with swift grace.
Autumn frost loves to carve and pare,
Peaks gaunt and thin stand bold and bare.
Layer on layer, piled in sight,
Firm and bright, they challenge heaven's height.
Winter's journey, dark and drear,
Ice and snow carve patterns clear.
New sunshine lights the cliffs so steep,
Ever towering, vast and deep.
Light and shade never stay the same,
Moments change, no two the same.
Southwest, Great White stands proud and high,
Rising alone to touch the sky.
Guardian of the capital's fate,
Its place in cosmic order great.
It strides across the earth's wide zone,
And dares to challenge heaven's throne.
Empty, cold, and full of dread,
Winds search and sweep with icy tread.
Red bounds where burning sunbeams fall,
While sleet and hail confusedly sprawl.
North of Kunming Lake, I go,
By chance, a sunny day to know.
Looking down from linked heights afar,
Troubled by reflections in the bar.
Ripples stir upon the face,
Like restless monkeys in their race.
I gasp, lest the scene break apart,
Then glad it stands, with joyful heart.
Seeking forward to Du's plain,
Past Bi's rough land, with much disdain.
Toiling up to heights so grand,
I gain a view of all the land.
Walking on, as paths grow poor,
Over ridge and vale I tour.
Sudden wish to split the hills,
Blocked and barred, my spirit chills.
Giants might with strength untold,
To sell their power, brave and bold.
Yet I doubt if Nature's will,
Guards this place with steadfast skill.
Though force could move the mountains wide,
Even thunder fears to chide.
Climbing, hands and feet set free,
Stumbling on stones, painfully.
Dazed, I lift my head to see,
Blocked, confused, what can it be?
Grand views lost, both near and far,
New scenes dim the old ones' star.
Bound by office, counting days,
I cannot go where my heart strays.
By chance, I see the deep pool's face,
Dark and still, a hidden place.
Fish and shrimp may be caught low,
But dare I touch what spirits know?
Leaves fall from the forest tall,
Birds save them ere they fall.
Snatching in curved flight they vie,
To feed their young, they swiftly fly.
Turning back, I glance behind,
Strong new growth, to fate resigned.
Ah, how strange and wondrous here,
Solid forms can change, appear.
Two years past, in exile sent,
By chance, this journey I went.
First from Lantian I passed through,
Turning neck, a weary view.
Then dark sky with heavy snow,
Eyes blurred by tears, hard to go.
Steep path dragged with ice so long,
Straight up as a waterfall strong.
Lifting robe, pushing my steed,
Stumbling back, yet I proceed.
Hurried, forgetting distant gaze,
Only what's near meets my face.
Bamboos and pines, armed and bright,
Gleaming like armor in the light.
Longing for level road with care,
Escape from peril, foul air.
Yesterday brought clear sky anew,
My old wish finally came true.
Up the peak's crest, steep and high,
With flying squirrels, swift they fly.
Lower ahead, wide view unfolds,
Heaped in folds the landscape holds.
Some linked as if they follow near,
Some pressed as in battle fierce.
Some calm as in peaceful rest,
Some poised as birds from nest.
Some scattered like tiles that break,
Some drawn as spokes to axle make.
Some light as boats on stream,
Some swift as horses in dream.
Some back to back as in spite,
Some face to face, shining bright.
Some wild as bamboo shoots rise,
Some steep as moxa burns wise.
Some colored like a painting fair,
Some curled like script with care.
Some spread like stars apart,
Some dense like clouds that start.
Some float like waves on sea,
Some broken like plowed earth free.
Some like bold warriors strong,
Racing to win, they rush along.
First fierce, their force displayed,
Then slow, with grumbling dismayed.
Some like an emperor's throne,
Crowded by subjects, high and lone.
Though close, no familiarity,
Though far, no hostility.
Some like a table spread,
With dishes piled, meat and bread.
Or like a graveyard old,
Tombs and coffins, stories told.
Some piled like pots and jars,
Some raised like bowls to stars.
Some upturned like sunning turtles,
Some slumped like sleeping myrtles.
Some coiled like dragons hid,
Some winged like hawks amid.
Some even as friends stand,
Some following, hand in hand.
Some bursting as if exiled,
Some lingering, reconciled.
Some fierce as enemies sworn,
Some close as newly born.
Some grave like tall-capped lord,
Some fluttering like dance's cord.
Some firm like battle array,
Some circled like hunt's prey.
Some flowing eastward fast,
Some lying northward cast.
Some flaming like fire's glow,
Some steaming, vapors flow.
Some moving without cease,
Some left without release.
Some slanting, not inclined,
Some slack, not bowstring lined.
Some bare like bald-head red,
Some charred like firewood spread.
Some like tortoise cracks for fate,
Some like hexagrams relate.
Some ahead like Stripping bare,
Some behind like Meeting fair.
Long lines part and join again,
Sudden splits, then meet as twain.
Like fish mouths at pond's face,
Like moon through clouds, with grace.
Like walls of trees, well-spaced,
Like stables, firmly placed.
Like sharpened swords in rows,
Like gems that brightly glows.
Like flowers with petals spread,
Like houses with eaves shed.
Some ease in peace profound,
Some wild, in frenzy bound.
Some leap as if in flight,
Some crawl, a sorry sight.
Great is this frame of earth and sky,
Structured like body's veins nearby.
Who first laid out this vast design?
Who urged with toil and pain to twine?
Created rough, yet skilled with art,
With labor, bearing each smart.
Was it by axe and blade's keen might,
Or cursed spells in dead of night?
Primordial age leaves no trace,
Deeds too great for price or place.
I've heard at shrine, with fragrant air,
Spirits descend to taste with care.
So I write this verse with pride,
To praise the gift, with thanks allied.