Liu Zhou Ge Tou · Heaven Beyond Heaven

Years in the mountains; looking far back on half a life of wildness. I drew my sword and went, the river lamps spread wide. I walked strange lands, learned to sleep on stone, forced the nine bends of river and marsh. The pine-surf roared, the sand and stones scorched, the stars blazed; I waded the linked peaks under a moon like frost. Ape shadows dogged my steps, rainbow rain tossed up waves of cloud, catkins and leaves whirled every way. Thousands upon thousands of li under hoisted sail; in dreams I talk of my childhood bed. Each thing an ocean, scattering into the vast and dim.

Going or staying, without limit; with an even heart I give way. I look out beyond the sky—cool and clear just now. The lone traveler set loose, the long world forgotten; reckon each cause as it falls due, the fruit is hard to hold. Now I climb to the heights, close by the immortals' halls, and draw in the jade fragrance. The wind blows a while; the langgan fruit comes down; beside the purple spring I break through the Final Gate, my heart turned home toward the Great Way. It keeps me company in all eight directions, as I throw off the reckonings of the mortal world; I stand waiting for the first sun, and the cold cicada cries and cries.