Post by yuefei on Jun 24, 2006 20:57:00 GMT -5
Not far from The city of Mo Ling,
There stands, clear cut against the sky,
A lofty ridge, and at its foot
A gentle stream goes gliding by.
The contour, curving up and down,
Although by resting cloud it's marred,
Arrests the eye; and here and there
The flank by waterfalls is scarred.
There, like a sleeping dragon coiled,
Or phoenix hid among thick pines,
You see, secure from prying eyes,
A palace, marble-built on rustic lines.
The large doors, aged by the wind,
Stand firm and tall, and within
The greatest warrior of the world
Enjoying still his calm repose.
The air is full of woodland scents,
Around are hedgerows trim and green,
Close-growing intercrossed bamboos
Replace the painted doorway screen.
But look within and you will see
everything neatly put into it's place;
And you may guess that common persons
Are very seldom welcomed here.
The palace seems far from human ken,
So far one might expect to find
Deities there, trained
To serve in place of humankind.
Without a hoary crane might stand
As warden of the outer gate;
Within a long-armed gibbon come
To offer fruit upon a plate.
But enter; there refinement reigns;
Brocaded silk the lutes protect,
And burnished weapons on the walls
The green of pines outside reflect.
For he who dwells within that hut
Is talented beyond compare,
Although he lives a heavenly life
And working seems his only care.
He waits until the thunderous call
Shall bid him wake, nor sleep again;
Then will he forth and at his word
Peace over all the land shall reign.
There stands, clear cut against the sky,
A lofty ridge, and at its foot
A gentle stream goes gliding by.
The contour, curving up and down,
Although by resting cloud it's marred,
Arrests the eye; and here and there
The flank by waterfalls is scarred.
There, like a sleeping dragon coiled,
Or phoenix hid among thick pines,
You see, secure from prying eyes,
A palace, marble-built on rustic lines.
The large doors, aged by the wind,
Stand firm and tall, and within
The greatest warrior of the world
Enjoying still his calm repose.
The air is full of woodland scents,
Around are hedgerows trim and green,
Close-growing intercrossed bamboos
Replace the painted doorway screen.
But look within and you will see
everything neatly put into it's place;
And you may guess that common persons
Are very seldom welcomed here.
The palace seems far from human ken,
So far one might expect to find
Deities there, trained
To serve in place of humankind.
Without a hoary crane might stand
As warden of the outer gate;
Within a long-armed gibbon come
To offer fruit upon a plate.
But enter; there refinement reigns;
Brocaded silk the lutes protect,
And burnished weapons on the walls
The green of pines outside reflect.
For he who dwells within that hut
Is talented beyond compare,
Although he lives a heavenly life
And working seems his only care.
He waits until the thunderous call
Shall bid him wake, nor sleep again;
Then will he forth and at his word
Peace over all the land shall reign.