Yu Lou Chun · Clamor and Stillness

A realm of snow without dust, heaven itself made into a world; a mustard seed holds the mountain and contains the bursting waterfall. On the spirit terrace a thought arises and takes in three thousand worlds; ten thousand ravines, the clear mountain haze floating over a far sea.

Having walked all the passes and rivers, I know the nature of things; half a mouthful of perch broth from the chopsticks hurries the drinking game. The heart all clear and still, idle as the clouds; I lie across the splendid feast and hear a distant chime.