Sit with me on Cold Mountain
Climbing up Cold Mountain, the trail winds on and on
Through, around, over huge boulders
Creeks shroud the grass with mist
The moss is slippery, but not from rain
The pines sing their song, but not from wind.
Come with me.
On mountain tops
We’ll leave the world behind
Among white clouds
We’ll listen to soundless music.
- Han-shan (Also known as Cold Mountain, legendary Taoist hermit monk of 8th and 9th century China, famous for his poetry).
. . .
For my journal notes on this post, visit the Heron Dance website here.
thank you…one of my favorites by han shan. also translated by burton watson, red pine and gary snyder in riprap and cold mountain poems. i think he won the pulitzer prize for poetry on this work in 1974. i have a much worn copy of it that he signed after a reading at ucsd in san diego…long long ago!
We recently watched several surreal NC mountain misty, minature (in comparison to the overhead dwellers) ---cloud pods swim through forest eddys below us before slowly enveloping us too with their meandering presence.