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1. ON SEEING THE PAINTING FESTIVE CLOUDS AT THE EXAMINATION 省試觀慶雲圖詩

Before colors were added shapes were drawn

through diaphanous clouds the capital appeared

celestial blessings bestowed from on high

assembled officials offering felicitations

on his robe a dragon embraced the sun

untouched by the royal censer’s smoke

His Eminence surveyed the horizon

his gaze extended into space

while his radiance shone forth from the scroll

the splendors of the auspicious scene were unrolled

a lasting example of Emperor Yao’s virtue

instead of riverine art a celebration

設色初成象,卿雲示國都。九天開秘祉,百辟贊嘉謨。

抱日依龍衮,非煙近御爐。高標連汗漫,向望接虛無。

裂素榮光發,舒華瑞色敷。恆將配堯德,垂慶代河圖。

NOTE: Written in Ch’ang-an in 790. This is Liu’s earliest extant poem. He was only eighteen, but it already shows his admiration for the ways of China’s early sage kings—an admiration that endured throughout his career as an offical and his subsequent exiles. The painting of the imperial court he describes was used as the subject of the civil service exam that year. The emperor was considered the Son of Heaven, and the image of a dragon playing with the sun was a common motif on royal robes. Among the sage rulers the Chinese revered were Emperor Yao 堯 (ca. 2350 BC) and Fu Hsi 伏羲 (ca. 2850 BC). Fu Hsi was once given by the Dragon King of the Yellow River a set of diagrams on the basis of which he composed the trigrams that made up the earliest version of the Book of Changes 易經. As a result of the enmity borne Liu’s father by the prime minister, Tou Shen, Liu failed the examination the previous year, and he failed this year too, and the next year, and the next. Finally, on his fifth attempt, when the prime minister himself was exiled, he passed in 793 at the age of twenty-one. His friend Liu Yu-hsi also passed that year. (1261)

2. THE TURTLE SHELL GAME 龜背戲

The game first appeared in Ch’ang-an in the palace

the sound soon filled the homes of nobles

gold coins falling on jade plates

turtle shells polished like an autumn sky

sacred symbols marking the eight directions

up and down and six different ways

someone spins a magical device

stars fly and clouds break apart

then come together again

who can tell what exists and what doesn’t

suddenly things scatter and disappear

then in a flash it’s all like before

everything of course rises and falls

but a single move here decides victory or defeat

old-style chess is no longer in vogue

whims of the past are disdained by the times

if more than luck lights its occult lines

may it grant my lord a thousand years

but serving as an altarpiece isn’t for me

the idle rich indulge in all sorts of things

長安新技出宮掖,喧喧初徧王侯宅。玉盤滴瀝黃金淺,皎如文龜麗秋天。

八方定位開神卦,六甲離離齊上下。投變轉動玄機卑,星流霞破相參差。

四分五裂勢未已,出無入有誰能知。乍驚散漫無處所,須臾羅列已如故。

徒言萬事有盈虛,終朝一擲知勝負。修門象棋不復貴,魏宮粧奩世所棄。

豈如瑞質耀奇文,願持千歲壽吾君。廟堂巾笥非余慕,錢刀兒女徒紛紛。

NOTE: Written in Ch’ang-an shortly before 800 while Liu was still in his twenties. Serving at court, Liu came into contact with the goings-on among the excessively rich and idle. Here he describes a new board game that had become fashionable. Judging from the description, the lines on the turtle shell formed the “board,” and elements of chance were involved but also automatic writing, as in the modern Ouija board. It was about this time that such writing first appeared among Taoists. In his self-titled book (17.11), the Taoist sage Chuang-tzu turns down an offer to be a minister at court and compares such an opportunity to the choice given a turtle of having its shell used in the ceremonies of the king or of continuing to wag its tail in the mud. The turtle, of course, was known for its long life. (1248)

I. THE JUNK BUG 蝜蝂傳

Junk bugs are insects that like to carry things. Whenever they encounter something, they grab it, then lift it with their heads onto their backs. No matter how heavy or troublesome it might be, they don’t quit. Because their backs are rough, whatever they pile on top doesn’t fall off. When they finally collapse and can’t get up, if someone takes pity on them and removes their burden, as soon as they can move, they pick it up again and continue on as before. They’re also fond of climbing heights and do so with all their might until they fall to their deaths.

Likewise, there are people today so greedy they don’t let anything of value escape without adding it to their possessions. They don’t consider how burdensome it might be, only that they might fail to acquire it. But the moment they’re careless and trip, they suffer the misfortune of dismissal or banishment. And yet, as long as they can get back up, they continue on unrepentant. Every day they wonder how to improve their position or how to increase their salary, and their greed grows to the point where they approach ruin. Even if they should consider how those who came before them have perished, they don’t stop. Although they appear great, and we call them “men,” they possess the intelligence of insects. This is truly sad.

蝜蝂者,善負小蟲也。行遇物,輒持取,卬其首負之。背愈重,雖困劇不止也。其背甚澀,物積固不散。卒躓仆不能起,人或憐之,為去其負,苟能行, 又持取如故。又好上高,極其力不已,至墜地死。

今世之嗜取者,遇貨不避,以厚其室。不知為己累也,唯恐其不積。及其怠而躓也,黜棄之,遷徙之,亦以病矣。苟能起,又不艾。日思高其位,大其祿,而貪取滋甚,以近於危墜。觀前之死亡,不知戒。雖其形魁然大者,其名人也,而智則小蟲也。亦足哀夫。

NOTE: Although this reflects Liu’s impression of people he met in Ch’ang-an, this was most likely written while he was himself banished and living in Yungchou. This insect is usually identified as the larval stage of the green lacewing, or ant lion, which piles the bodies of ants it has killed on its back for camouflage. Liu has broadened its habits a bit here to serve the purposes of allegory. (483)

3. WEI TAO-AN 韋道安

Tao-an was a Confucian scholar

equally skilled with a bow or sword

traveling through the Taihang Mountains at twenty

one evening he heard someone cry

spurring his horse to investigate

he found an old man in a disheveled state

“I was a county official,” he said

“but I was demoted and returning to Ch’ang-an

when suddenly bandits attacked me

they didn’t leave me a thing

I don’t mind losing my possessions

they took my daughters too

before I knew it they were gone

who knows if my girls are dead or alive

I may as well end this life

how can I face another day”

道安本儒士,頗擅弓劍名。二十遊太行,暮聞號哭聲

疾驅前致問,有叟垂華纓。言我故刺史,失職還西京。

偶為群盜得,毫縷無餘贏。貨財足非恡,二女皆娉婷。

蒼黃見驅逐,誰識死與生。便當此殞命,休復事晨征。

Tao-an’s sense of injustice was roused

his eyes narrowed and his body tensed

he grabbed his bow and asked where they went

in a matter of minutes he was over the ridge

he saw the bandits beside a stream

they were arguing among themselves

with a single arrow he killed the leader

the others yelled out in fright

he told them to tie up each other

then to put the rope in his hands

the two girls had given up hope

they were expecting a gruesome end

they cowered and wouldn’t come closer

he told them to follow him back to their father

then slinging the stolen goods over his shoulder

he hurried back to where he set out

一聞激高義,眥裂肝膽橫。掛弓問所往,趫捷超峥嶸。

見盜寒澗陰,羅列方忿爭。一矢斃酋帥,餘黨號且驚。

麾令遞束縛,纆索相拄撐。彼姝久褫魄,刃下俟誅刑。

卻立不親授,論以從父行。捃收自擔肩,轉道趨前程。

he made a fire that night with his flint

the forest was bright as day

the old man and his daughters embraced

their tears mixed with their blood

the father bowed and offered his goods

he told the girls to call Tao-an “husband”

Tao-an straightened his robe and left

justice is precious and profit a trifle

the ancients disparaged rewards such as marriage

families shouldn’t form due to arms

he left to practice the scholarly arts

for ten years he was thus engaged

until Prefect Chang of Hsuchou

came waving his banner at the palace gate

devotion to a cause was Tao-an’s goal

he left Ch’ang-an and rode forth

夜發敲石火,山林如晝明。父子更抱持,涕血紛交零。

頓首願歸貨,納女稱舅甥。道安奮衣去,義重利固輕。

師婚古所病,合姓非用兵。朅來事儒術,十載所能逞

慷慨張徐州,朱邸揚前旌。投軀獲所願,前馬出王城。

he distinguished himself at his post

but autumn winds rose on the Huai

his lord suddenly died

and those he commanded rebelled

defying the emperor’s mandate

they filled the land with sounds of war

their excesses couldn’t be contained

their defiance couldn’t be restrained

lifting his head Tao-an drew his sword

those who love justice don’t think of themselves

not that martyrs are oblivious of death

they die to remain loyal and true

while others die fighting for power

or spend their lives chasing glory

my song isn’t meant to mourn a man’s death

but to mourn the ways of this world

轅門立奇士,淮水秋風生。君侯既即世,麾下相欹傾。

立孤抗王命,鐘鼓四野鳴。橫潰非所壅,逆節非所嬰。

舉頭自引刃,顧義誰顧形。烈士不忘死,所死在忠貞。

咄嗟徇權子,翕習猶趨榮。我歌非悼死,所悼時世情。

NOTE: Written in Ch’ang-an in the summer of 800, when Liu was serving as proofreader in the Academy of Scholarly Worthies. There was an insurrection that year in the Huai River region. When Chang Chien-feng 張建封, the magistrate of Hsuchou 徐州, died, the rebels made Chang’s son the new magistrate and refused to accept the court’s orders to put down their weapons. Chang had visited Ch’ang-an in 797 looking for talented men to assist him, and Wei Tao-an took up his banner. Unwilling to accept the flaunting of imperial authority, Wei committed suicide in protest. The loss of imperial control over the appointment of regional governors and their successors also meant loss of revenue for the court and was the single most serious problem facing the T’ang government during Liu’s lifetime. In the case of Hsuchou, it meant loss of control over the transshipment of grain coming from the Yangtze via the Grand Canal. Liu wrote a prose piece to accompany this poem, but it has since been lost. (1206)

4. AT CHIEF MINISTER HUN’S RESIDENCE ON HEARING A SONG RESEMBLING “WHITE LINEN” 渾鴻臚宅聞歌效白紵

A breathtaking beauty parts kingfisher curtains

in the light of a fall moon a dragon blade is unsheathed

crimson lips whisper without making a sound

gold pipes and jade chimes echo from the palace

inciting the sky to lower the autumn heat

turning the sun to crystal in a world without bounds

and these goblets of wine, again, why are we drinking

翠帷雙卷出傾城,龍劍破匣霜月明。朱脣掩抑悄無聲,金簧玉磬宮中生。

下沉秋火激太清,天高地迥凝日晶。羽觴蕩漾何事傾。

NOTE: This fancy poem depicts the highlights of an evening at the minister’s residence and was written in Ch’ang-an sometime before Liu’s exile in the ninth month of 805. Hun Chien 渾鍼 was the minister in charge of vassal state ceremonials. An odd number of lines was unusual in Chinese poetry, but Liu is emulating the seven-line song “White Linen” in which the rhyme is carried by the second, fourth, sixth, and seventh lines. The second line here refers to a sword dance, and the pipes in the fourth line were made of metal and consisted of half a dozen or more vertical tubes. Clearly, by the time he was thirty, Liu’s skill as a poet transcended the versification common among court officials. Unfortunately, we have only these four examples of his early work. (1250)

5. ODE FOR A CAGED EAGLE 籠鷹詞

In whistling wind and pelting sleet

an eagle takes off in morning light

flying through clouds cutting through rainbows

it dives like lightning into the hills

slicing through thickets of thorns with its wings

it grabs a rabbit then flies into the sky

other birds scatter from its bloody talons

settling on a perch it surveys its realm

the hot winds of summer suddenly arise

it loses its feathers and goes into hiding

harassed by vermin lurking in the grass

frightened and distressed unable to sleep

all it can think of is the return of cool air

escaping its restraints and soaring into the clouds

淒風淅瀝飛嚴霜,蒼鷹上擊翻曙光。雲披霧裂虹蜺斷,霹靂摯電捎平岡。

砉然勁翮剪荆棘,下攫孤兔騰蒼茫。爪毛吻血百鳥逝,獨立四顧時激昻。

炎風溽暑忽然至,羽翼脫落自摧藏。草中狸鼠足為患,一夕十顧驚且傷。

但願清商復為假,拔去萬累雲間翔。

NOTE: Written in Yungchou, most likely in the twelfth month of 805 shortly after Liu arrived at his place of exile. We have no poems about his departure from Ch’ang-an or his journey. He was either too depressed or too preoccupied with taking care of his mother. She was ill and died the following summer. Although Liu was not imprisoned, his exile came with restrictions on his movements. It was a new experience, and the eagle’s confinement reminded him of his own predicament. The eagle in this case is one that has been raised from a chick and trained to hunt. Such birds are kept in a pen during the summer molting period while their flight feathers are growing out again. (1246)

6. ODE FOR A ONE-FOOTED CROW 跂烏詞

Dawn lights the walls and all the crows fly

cawing and fighting over the sunniest branches

preening their feathers they seem happy

why are you alone glum today

did your love of heights lead you too near the sun

did the three-footed one hurt you out of spite

or were you hungry and cawing at the roadside

when someone decided to try a new kind of meat

my puny-winged one-footed friend in the bushes

grabbing low branches pulling yourself up with your beak

looking down in the mud for ants and crickets

and up at roof beams to guard against swallows

your wings might be as sharp as knives

but unable to jump you can’t fly high

No Toes and Crippled Legs weren’t affected

try to fly low and you’ll avoid further harm

城上日出群烏飛,鵶鵶爭赴朝陽枝。刷毛伸翼和且樂,爾獨落魄今何為。

無乃慕高近白日,三足妬爾令爾疾。無乃飢啼走路旁,貪鮮攫肉人所傷。

翹肖獨足下叢薄,口銜低枝始能躍。還顧泥塗備螻蟻,仰看棟梁防燕雀。

左右六翮利如刀,踴身失勢不得高。支離無趾猶自免,努力低飛逃後患。

NOTE: Written in Yungchou most likely at the end of 805, shortly after Liu arrived. Cutting off the feet was a common punishment for criminals in ancient China. Although exile was hardly the same, Liu identifies with the one-footed crow. According to an ancient myth, a three-footed crow lives on the sun—crows being especially fond of shiny things. In this case, the shiny thing is the emperor, and the light is his grace, over which the black-robed officials fight every morning at court. In the penultimate line, Liu mentions two disabled men who appear in Chuangtzu (5.3 & 5.5) as examples of those who suffered a physical deformity yet were able to rise above it due to their unimpaired moral qualities. Chuang-tzu’s text also includes numerous examples of survival, if not longevity, that resulted from keeping a low profile. (1244)

II. THE BEAR 羆說

Deer are afraid of wildcats, wildcats are afraid of tigers, and tigers are afraid of bears. Covered with long shaggy hair and able to stand upright, bears possess exceptional strength and are capable of killing people. In the south of Ch’u there once was a hunter who could make all kinds of animal calls with his flute. One day he took his bow and arrows and his firepot into the mountains, and he made a call to attract deer. He waited, and when a deer appeared, he started a fire, then he shot the deer. But when a wildcat heard the deer call, it came too. The hunter was terrified and pretended to be a tiger to frighten it. But when the wildcat ran off, a tiger appeared. The man was even more terrified and pretended to be a bear. The tiger disappeared. But a bear heard the call and came looking for a mate. When it saw the man, it grabbed him and tore him apart and ate him. It turns out that those who rely on external aids instead of developing what they have within themselves invariably end up as bear food.

鹿畏貙,貙畏虎,虎畏熊。熊之狀,被髮人立,絕有力甚害人焉。楚之南有獵者,能吹竹為百獸之音。嘗云持弓矢罌火而即之山,為鹿鳴以感其類。伺其至,發火而射之。貙聞其鹿也,貙而之。其人恐,因爲虎而駭之。貙走而虎至,愈恐,則又為熊,亦亡去。熊聞而求其類,至則人,捽搏挽裂而食之。今夫不善內而恃外者,未有不為熊之食也。

NOTE: The ancient kingdom of Ch’u 楚 included the region to which Liu was exiled. The firepot referred to here was an oil lamp and was used to start fires to drive animals toward hunters. (467)

7. THE FIRST PLUM FLOWERS 早梅

Plum flowers appear first on the taller trees

shining in the distance against the blue southern sky

the North Wind diffuses their scent at night

heavy frost at dawn adds to their white

I wish I could send them a thousand miles

but with so many mountains and rivers in between

these wintertime blossoms would surely fade

how could they console a distant friend

早梅發高樹,迥映楚天碧。朔吹飄夜香,繁霜滋曉白。

欲為萬里贈,杳杳山水隔。寒英坐銷落,何用慰遠客。

NOTE: Written in Yungchou in the first month of 806. The last four lines reprise a poem by Lu K’ai 陸凱 (198–269): “Meeting a courier I broke off a branch / I’m sending it to a friend on the northern border / finding nothing else south of the Yangtze / this branch of spring will have to do.” 折花逢驛使,寄與隴頭人。江南無所有,聊贈一枝春. Liu was an incurable realist, not a romantic. (1233)

8. THINKING OF MY OLD GARDEN IN SPRING 春懷故園

The sound of bureau birds is late

it’s time for spring farmwork in Ch’u

I keep thinking of the water in my old pond

waiting for someone to irrigate the garden

九扈鳴已晚,楚鄉農事春。悠悠故池水,空待灌園人。

NOTE: Written in Yungchou at the beginning of 806. Newly arrived at his place of exile, Liu still expects to return to Ch’ang-an and thinks back to where he grew up as a boy southwest of the capital along the Feng River. Originally the term “bureau birds” referred to an ancient division of government into nine bureaus, each named for a different bird and in charge of overseeing a different aspect of the agricultural calendar. Here, in the domain of the ancient state of Ch’u, the local bureaucrats are sleeping late. Living in exile and serving as a deputy magistrate with no responsibilities or authority, Liu not only can’t assist the farmers in Yungchou, his talents are ignored by those empowered to do so. (1264)

9. MEETING A FARMER AT THE START OF SPRING 首春逢耕者

Spring arrives early in southern Ch’u

things start to grow while it’s cold

the power of the earth is loose in the land

hibernating creatures are stirring

there’s no color yet in the countryside

but farmers are already plowing

I can hear birds singing in the orchards

I can see springs flowing in the marshes

farming of course is honest work

but an exile is cut off from normal life

my old pond I imagine is overgrown

the family farm all thorns and vines

I would be a hermit but I’m not free

nothing I try succeeds

I related all this to a farmer

explaining my situation in detail

he kept rubbing the handle of his plow

and turning to look at the looming clouds

南楚春候早,餘寒已滋榮。土膏釋原野,百蟄競所營。

綴景未及郊,穡人先耦耕。園林幽鳥囀,渚澤新泉清。

農事誠素務,羈囚阻平生。故池想蕪沒,遺畝當榛荆。

慕隱既有繫,圖功遂無成。聊從田父言,歀曲陳此情。

眷然撫耒耜,迴首煙雲橫。

NOTE: Written in Yungchou in the spring of 806. Yungchou was located in the southernmost part of the ancient state of Ch’u, whose territory included the north and south sides of the middle reaches of the Yangtze. The home Liu refers to was not where he lived just outside the palace in Ch’ang-an but the place that belonged to his mother’s family. It was a few kilometers southwest of the city between the Feng River and the Shaoling Plateau 少陵 and was where he spent his childhood. After his death, Liu’s body was taken back to the capital and was buried on the plateau not far from where the poets Tu Mu 杜牧 and Wei Ying-wu 韋應物 were buried. This begins like a T’ao Yuanming poem, but it doesn’t end that way. Instead of expressing a desire to join the farmer, Liu remains a banished official wishing he could return to court. (1212)

10. READING ZEN TEXTS IN THE MORNING AT TRANSCENDENT MASTER TEMPLE 晨詣超師院讀禪經

Gargling with well water makes my teeth chatter

after purifying myself I brush off my clothes

I happened to pick up a palm-leaf text

leaving the east wing I kept reading

“There’s nothing to find in the wellspring of truth”

“What the world follows are the footprints of falsehood”

I wish I could fathom those ancient words

will I ever be done perfecting my nature

the monastery courtyard is quiet

it’s all green moss and bamboo

sunny days the fog and dew linger

the pine trees look just washed

the peace I feel is hard to describe

I’m happy just being awake

汲井漱寒齒,清心拂塵服。閒持貝葉書,步出東齋讀。

真源了無取,妄跡世所逐。遺言冀可冥,繕性何由熟。

道人庭宇靜,苔色連深竹。日出霧露餘,青松如膏沐。

澹然離言說,悟悦心自足。

NOTE: Written in Yungchou in the summer of 806, when Liu would have been new to a monastic environment. Such was the insignificance of Liu’s post, it didn’t include government lodging, but Buddhist temples often provided rooms for visiting officials. Lunghsing Temple was a five-minute walk east of the Hsiao River and just below the west-facing slope of Chienchiuling 千秋嶺, which formed the southeast border of the city. The temple’s grounds are now home to the city’s tax bureau and a primary school. Liu renames the temple here in the abbot’s honor. The abbot’s name was Ch’ung-sun 重巽, whom Liu refers to as the “transcendent master.” Liu often joined the abbot in his quarters in the temple’s east wing reading texts—texts that would have been written on palm leaves in India but on paper or silk in China. I don’t know what text Liu is quoting (or paraphrasing). Most likely it was something the abbot gave him to read. Ch’ung-sun was a student of both Zen and Tientai Buddhism. Liu’s quarters were in the west wing. (1134)

III. THE WEST BALCONY OF YUNGCHOU’S LUNGHSING TEMPLE 永州龍興寺西軒記

At the beginning of the Yungchen period [805], I was labeled a partisan and forced to leave the Department of State Affairs. I was banished to Shaochou, but on the way there I was degraded further to be the assistant magistrate of Yungchou. When I arrived, I had no place to live, so I settled in the west wing of Lunghsing Temple. I had long been familiar with the teachings of Sakyamuni, and this was actually something I had hoped for. However, the room where I took shelter was quite dark. It was set in the shade, and the windows faced north. But since the temple was located above the town, and the west wing faced the current of a mighty river, and beyond the river to the west were forested mountains and valleys, I cut through the west wall and made a door, and beyond the door a balcony, so I could see everything beyond the treetops. Without having to move my mat or my desk I suddenly had a grand view.

That room is now a room of the past and that mat and desk are now a place of the past. When something that was dark becomes bright, does it not become a different thing? By realizing the Way of the Buddha, one can turn ignorant views into true knowledge and delusions into true awareness, thus exchanging darkness for light. Is this nature of ours any different? Anyone who can cut through my wall of ignorance, open up a door to spiritual light, and extend a balcony to welcome what lies beyond, I am their disciple. And so I am writing this down for two reasons: one is to record what is outside my door, the other is to have something to give Master Sun.

永貞年,余名在黨人,不容於尚書省。出為邵州,道 貶永州司馬。至則無以為居,居龍興寺西序之下。余知釋氏之道且久,固所願也。然余所庇之屋甚隱蔽,其戶北向,居昧昧也。寺之居於是州為高。西序之西,屬當大江之流,江之外,山谷林麓甚眾。於是鑿西墉以為戶,戶之外為軒,以臨羣木之杪,無不矚焉。不徙席,不運几,而得大觀。

夫室,嚮者之室也,席與几,嚮者之處也。嚮也昧而今也顯,豈異物耶。因悟夫佛之道,可以轉惑見為真智,即羣迷為正覺,捨大闇為光明。夫性豈異 物耶。孰能為余鑿大昏之墉,闢靈照之戶,廣應物之軒者,吾將與為徙。遂書為二,其一志諸戶外,其一以貽巽上人焉. (751)

11. THIRTY COUPLETS ON FAHUA TEMPLE’S STONE GATE HERMITAGE 法華寺石門精室三十韻

I felt depressed and sick from worry

to ease my heart I needed lighter air

I had been thinking of eminent monks

looking at East Mountain night and day

happily the sky finally cleared

happily the green world was alive

I was joined by my favorite cousin

we were excited as we set out

we followed a stream farther and farther

then stone steps higher and higher

past creepers and vines toward a storied structure

lichen and moss half covered the name

dense woods rose in front and back

sheer walls on either side

a fortress appeared out of the gloom

its parapets looked out on the river

we felt cut off from the world

as if we had climbed to the sky

the buildings were surrounded by cliffs

wherever we turned things changed

拘情病幽鬱,曠志寄高爽。願言懷名緇,東峰旦夕仰。

始欣雲雨霽,尤悅草木長。道同有愛弟,披拂恣心賞。

松谿窈窱入,石棧夤緣上。蘿葛綿層甍,莓苔侵標膀。

密林互對聳,絕壁儼雙敞。壍崤出蒙籠,墟嶮臨滉瀁。

稍疑地脈斷,悠若天梯往。結構罩群崖,迴環驅萬象。

a kalpa seemed but the blink of an eye

the universe was there in our hands

emptiness and the source of all things

we saw our existence free of thoughts

free of the buzzing of gnats

and the fear of mountain spirits

how could we work for mere trifles

how could we bend at the waist

gazing at this most wondrous of sights

listening to the subtlest of sounds

today we finally understood

as never before we felt awake

if we don’t continue this journey

how shall we live out this life

taking an uncommon path is rare

but we’ve never trusted empty names

getting free requires help from outside

bowing in silence and looking within

reflecting and respecting old ways

we’ve finally found our true clan

小劫不逾瞬,大千若在掌。體空得化元,觀有遺細想。

喧煩困蠛蠓,跼蹐疲魍魎。寸進諒何營,尋直非所枉。

探奇極遙矚,窮妙閱清響。理會方在今,神開庶殊曩。

茲游苟不嗣,浩氣竟誰養。道異誠所希,名賓匪余仗。

超攎藉外獎,俛默有內朗。鑑爾揖古風,終焉乃吾黨。

free of restraints living in seclusion

up high above the world of dust

ambition is a waste of effort

how could we follow the footprints of others

we lingered until the sun went down

looking into the distance entranced

at columns of geese in the fading light

wave upon wave of ever-changing clouds

the wind dying down then rising

the road below leading into the distance

prisoners in a cangue fear a flood

exiles far from home hate the wind

Written in Exile

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