Flocks of birds
in the distance, flying high
A lonely cloud drifts by, idly.
I look at the cloud
The cloud looks back at me
We do not get tired of each other
only on Jingting Shan hill.
- rendered from a literal translation at web pages:
Crowd birds high fly utmost
Lonely cloud alone go idle
Mutual watch both not tire
Only be Jingting Shan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem