High from the 'Po-lin' temple, I overlooked the dusk cloud.
Staying overnight, I wrote poems of which I was proud.
Fogs steamed the distant mountains with green spring trees.
The western sun made all the clouds drunk like rubies.
Bell went ding dong urging tourists to return for dinner.
Yet the guests rested leisurely on their sticks without answer.
Monks detached common customs and meditated deeply.
None could preach Buddhism as the poets in 'Song' dynasty.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
http: //poem.bestfd.com/bbs/forum.php? mod=viewthread&tid=12101&extra=page%3D1
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem