Rocks like a flock of sheep on Yunlongshan

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Climbing Cloud Dragon Mountain

Sū Shì 1036-1101 High as a kite          I stumble up Yellow Thatch Ridge, The whole hill a jumble of rocks         like a flock of sheep. On top... drunk...         I collapse on a bed of rock, Face up gaze at the white clouds         and infinity. The sounds of my songs fall to the valley         on the autumn wind, Villagers raise their heads         gaze toward the southeast, Clap their hands         shout with laughter,                 "The Prefect's gone mad!"

Déng Yúnlóngshān

Sū Shì 1036-1101 Zuì zhōng zǒushàng Huángmáogāng, Mǎn gāng luàn shí rǔ qún yáng. Gāng tóu zuìdǎo shí zuò chuáng, Yǎng kàn báiyún tiān mángmáng. Geshēng luò gǔ qiūfēng cháng, Lùrén jǔshǒu dōngnán wàng. Pāishǒu dàxiào shìjūn kuáng!

Translator:

Dongbo 東波

Notes: Su wrote this poem for his monk friend Can Liao who was visiting him in Xuzhou at the time. Chanted by Robin Zhang, Shanghai IT developer.

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