Coolness seeps through the inkstone, window not yet papered, / The autumn wind shoots in as if calling.
By the bed, the Wu hook roars like a dragon, / I wish to ride it and storm the northern tents.
A true man's poetic courage is as big as a bushel, / Stroking it, I laugh and sing the songs of Chu.
All my life, a tender heart turned iron-hard, / Trimming the cold lamp, I sit hugging my robe.
Bells and drums sound as dawn approaches, / Crows not yet awake, but roosters startled first.
No need to ask if rain fell last night, / Just listen to the sound on banana leaves.
The old monk, accustomed to leisure, surely finds it tolerable, / Mountain hues half-veiled in misty locks.
A jade hairpin dropped, fearing to be handled, / News passes in the rain, a snap of the fingers.
Ten days ago, we got one clear day, / Distant pines and cypresses as if splashed with green.
Stupid clouds slowly part on their own, / Over half the river, a golden dragon surges alive.
Osmanthus flowers, after all, are somewhat dry and thin, / Forced to show their beauty, too lazy to groom.
Just because we haven't seen clouds for long, / Efforts halved, sweeping away desolation.
People say moments of pure joy are rare, / Worldly pleasures must give birth to sorrow.
In a turn, ink splashes, heaven and earth turn black, / Still the rain threads down like silk.
The mountain elder hardly knows the spirit dragon's will, / Deliberately sending continuous rain to hinder travel.
Unaware the golden-duck censer's incense seal is long, / Holding his nose, he can still watch the literary play.
Layer upon layer adding azure and dark green, / Who says thick emerald encircles bamboo groves?
Plants overly damp exude a fragrant intent, / Clothes need airing, mats warmed, braziers lit.
Sheer cliffs ten thousand feet, moss mottled and patched, / Sun is fine indeed, rain not bad either.
Clear or dark, both are worth viewing, / Sometimes coarse fare, sometimes wild greens offered.
Love for mountains,痴 like love for poetry, / Whether sunny or rainy, all is wondrous enough.
Have you not seen? Comparing West Lake to Lady West, / Light makeup or heavy adornment, always fitting.