People say you are just in the mountain
But can’t find your sign and trace
Oh, no — only when I have done all I can to get on the top
I can see where you are, and what your expression is
At the thatched cottage near a brook behind the mountain
You are partly hidden and partly visible, meditating and laboring
That is the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen
I am gazing with tears
I have to get close to your reality body however and your words
When I wriggle my way on with the sunset
And reach the goal you have already achieved —
I find all I have seen before becomes
Completely an illusion ……
Oh, no — I can’t stay at this sad place too long
I must keep going in the darkness
Through the pine smog and the moonlight
I gradually see you —
I see you sitting on the other side of the river
You are as a fantasy
Playing the harp and singing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem