from Cold Mountain Poems
by Han Shan (Tang dynasty, 8th century CE; translated by Gary Snyder)
Clambering up the Cold Mountain path,
The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on:
The long gorge choked with scree and boulders,
The wide creek, the mist-blurred grass.
The moss is slippery, though there's been no rain
The pine sings, but there's no wind.
Who can leap the world's ties
And sit with me among the white clouds?




Beautiful. Thanks for the poem today, Kai.
Posted by: Theriomorph | Tuesday, December 25, 2007 at 04:34 PM
Theriomorph, aside from the fact that I simply enjoy typing the letters in your name, I'm glad you enjoyed Han Shan and glad to have Han Shan-enjoying types around. :-)
Posted by: Kai | Thursday, December 27, 2007 at 12:17 AM
Ach! The cold mountain trail does go on and up. And yes, moss is slippery, no matter how pillowy it looks.
Bummer.
I spent my childhood sitting in a fabulous enormous Norwegian Pine. A hospitable tree with branches like a stairway. In it, I felt that the clouds were my friends.
Happy New Year, Kai.
Posted by: sunrunner | Thursday, December 27, 2007 at 04:46 PM
hey, 'mano, i tagged you. wanna write from the cold mountain trails and peaks? ^_^
Posted by: M | Friday, December 28, 2007 at 09:51 AM
Happy New Year to you, Sunrunner! Great to see you around. Slippery moss and all.
M, okay okay I'm on it, geez kids these days...and yes writing from Cold Mountain sounds like a good idea. ;-P
Posted by: Kai | Friday, December 28, 2007 at 01:18 PM