Qin's Caves, long veiled in tales of old, / A rare excursion now unfolds.
How strange, this five-mile secret lair, / Unleashes for a day my madcap air.
With lantern light the great gloom rends, / On staff I lean where fairyland ascends.
Scattered paths with bayberries red, / Lotus pods on stone steps spread.
Stone milk drips like white jade bright, / Spring's breath soars on rainbow's light.
Crossing perils, heart astir, / On level ground, joy's boundless spur.
Dizzying depths of ravine's night, / Canopy of green peaks, sheer height.
Descend and climb through fields' last trace, / Then open gates to polo's space.
Dragon guards the cliffside way, / Cat protects the granary's stay.
Strongmen stumble, shoes upturned, / Arhats solemn, row on row confirmed.
The millstone's gap, a god's regret, / The empty tent, no measure set.
Waters murmur in the void profound, / Pillars stand where spirits gather round.
Words catch echoes from afar, / Strength spent, a faint sun's rising star.
From a small cave in dream I part, / And stand where vast wilderness doth start.
Dusty bonds indeed run deep, / Immortal paths—are they not steep?
Lingwu saw Tang's great reign arise, / Xiang's shores with brilliant writings prize.
At Wangyi, Qin's rule met its doom, / 'Neath southern peaks, they feared the gloom.
Hidden or shown—no scholar's will, / A nation's peace, its statutes still.
Let's set this matter now aside, / And ask: where next shall we abide?
My verse's meaning finds no rest, / I long to lodge where monks are blessed.