山石荦确行径微，黄昏到寺蝙蝠飞。
升堂坐阶新雨足，芭蕉叶大栀子肥。
僧言古壁佛画好，以火来照所见稀。
铺床拂席置羹饭，疏粝亦足饱我饥。
夜深静卧百虫绝，清月出岭光入扉。
天明独去无道路，出入高下穷烟霏。
山红涧碧纷烂漫，时见松枥皆十围。
当流赤足踏涧石，水声激激风生衣。
人生如此自可乐，岂必侷促为人鞿。
嗟哉吾党二三子，安得至老不更归。
"Mountain Stone" Han Yu
Trans. Aaron Gilkison
Craggy is the mountain stone, narrow is the trail;
A temple rises in the dusk, beneath the black bat's wail.
Worship hall steps drenched from rain, garden verdure thick;
Monks tell of their fresco'd walls, flick'ring torchlight stick.
Bed roll laid well porridge stew, hunger turns to sleep;
Deep night beetle songs they cease, moonlight gilds soft sheets.
Lonely start at break of day, glens and crests mist-soaked;
Bright red flowers jade green streams, thick-trunked pines and oaks.
Bare feet tiptoe stepping stones, trickling creek wind breathes;
One can find just what one wants, escape society's leash.
Hope my comrades take the chance, 'fore they turn old folks.
