Shan Shui

By the wandering pines

Where the sun goes hiding

Swims a little green trout

With its shadow wallowing low

Through the wandering stream

With the stones' slick sliding

And my little fin feet seem to know

Where the water must flow.

wo deng, wo deng, wo deng

shan shui

At the foot of the falls,

Yellow footbridge leaping

To a narrow footpath

Where my footsteps following go,

Past the little red roofs

With their corners sweeping

Into bristling pines

With their twisted branches of cones.

The scroll unrolls

Under my feet.

Where will this

Painted path of paper

Finally lead?

Everything pulses;

Everything is poised.

This wildness wrestles

With its back

Against the void.

The scroll unrolls

Under my feet.

Where will this

Painted path of paper

Finally lead?

On a bluff clings the brush,

Tiny tiptoes hanging

To the fissured-fist rocks

All upended and overthrown.

And the pillars pile up

To the clouds' soft longing;

Though the ladder grows steep,

My feet keep climbing the stone.

wo deng, wo deng, wo deng

shan shui

wo wang le zi ji

gen wo lai han shang leng qi

The scroll unrolls

Under my feet.

Where will this

Painted path of paper

Finally lead?

Everything pulses;

Everything is poised.

This wildness wrestles

With its back

Against the void.

The scroll unrolls

Under my feet.

Where will this

Painted path of paper

Finally lead?