Dream of Mount Tianmu: a farewell poem

Dream of Mount Tianmu: a farewell poem

Wayfarers speak of Yingzhou—

amid misty waves and faint haze, truly hard to reach.

Men of Yue speak of Tianmu—

where clouds and rosy light flicker in and out, and it may sometimes be glimpsed.

Tianmu rises to the sky and stretches across the heavens,

its might surpasses the Five Sacred Peaks and dwarfs Red City Terrace.

Tiantai, eighty thousand fathoms tall,

in the face of this, seems to crumble and lean toward the southeast.

I would follow this tale and dream of Wu and Yue—

in one night, flying across the moon over Mirror Lake.

The lake moon casts my light,

escorting me to Shanxi.

Where Lord Xie once lodged still stands today—

clear waters ripple and sway, and the cries of pale apes ring clear.

My feet wear Lord Xie's clogs,

my body climbs the ladder of blue clouds.

On a cliff's face I see the sea-sun,

in midair I hear the Heavenly Cock.

A thousand crags, ten thousand turns—the path knows no certainty;

lost among flowers, leaning on stone, suddenly dusk has come.

Bears roar, dragons sing, shaking the mountain springs—

deep forests tremble, and the layered peaks startle.

Clouds dark and heavy, ready to rain;

waters calm and flowing, giving rise to mist.

Lightning splits the sky, thunder crashes—

hills and ridges crumble and collapse.

The stone gate of the grotto heaven

thunderously swings open in the middle.

The blue void stretches vast and boundless, with no floor in sight—

sun and moon shine upon terraces of gold and silver.

Rainbows as robes, the wind as steeds—

the Lords of the Clouds descend in a thrumming multitude.

Tigers strum the zither, phoenixes wheel their carriages—

the immortals stand packed together like hemp.

Suddenly my soul shudders, my spirit stirs—

startled, I wake with a long, sighing gasp.

Only the pillow and mat are there upon waking—

the mist and rosy light of before are lost.

Pleasure in the human world is just like this—

since ancient times, all things flow eastward like water.

I leave you now—when shall I return?

For now I will set my white deer free among the green cliffs,

and when the time comes to go, I shall ride it to visit famous mountains.

How could I furrow my brow and bow my waist to serve the powerful—

and never let my face know joy again?