113. THE SONG OF LUH SHAN
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Really I am a mad man of Chu,
Singing the phoenix-bird song and laughing at the sage Confucius.
At dawn a green jade staff in my hand,
I leave the Yellow Crane House and go,
Seeking genii among the Five Mountains, forgetting the distance.
All my life I've loved to visit the mountains of renown.
The Luh Shan looms near the constellation of the South Dipper,
Like a nine-fold screen adorned with embroidery of clouds;
And the clear lake reflects its gleaming emerald.
The two peaks shoot up high where the Gold Gate opens wide;
And over against the far waterfall of the Censer Mountain
The cascades of San-shi-liang hang like the Silver River of heaven.
The craggy ranges over-reach the azure blue;
And girdled in pink mist and green foliage,
They glisten in the morning sun.
The birds cannot fly over—to the remote skies of Wu.
I ascend the high place and look out on heaven and earth.
Lo! the waters of the great Kiang flow on and on never to return.
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