“Green mountains rise to the north;white water rolls past the eastern city.Once it has been uprooted,the tumbleweed travels forever.Drifting clouds like a wanderer's mind;sunset, like the heart of your old friend.We turn, pause, look back and wave,Even our ponies look back and whine.”

“A pity it is evening, yetI do love the water of this springseeing how clear it is, how clean;rays of sunset gleam on it,lighting up its ripples, making itone with those who travelthe roads; I turn and facethe moon; sing it a song, thenlisten to the sound of the windamongst the pines.”

“The birds have vanished into the sky and now the last cloud drains away. We sit together the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains.”

“You ask why I make my home in the mountain forest,and I smile, and am silent,and even my soul remains quiet:it lives in the other worldwhich no one owns.The peach trees blossom,The water flows.”

“To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows,We drained a hundred jugs of wine.A splendid night it was . . . .In the clear moonlight we were loath to go to bed,But at last drunkenness overtook us;And we laid ourselves down on the empty mountain,The earth for pillow, and the great heaven for coverlet”

“We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains.”

“From the east a spring breeze is touching us,passing by,And so in the goblet in the green winetiny ripples are formed.The blossoms stolen by the whirlare falling to the earth.My fair girl will be drunken soonwith her blushed cheeks.Beside the blue pavilion the peach tree -Do you know, how long it will bloom?It’s a trembling shine, a dream:it cheats us and steals away.Rise and dance!The sun is fading!Who never was full of demanding liveand crazy in his young dayswill vainly - when the hairis white - sigh and wail.”