 |
Han Yu, Stopping at a Temple on Heng Mountain I Inscribe
this Poem in the Gate-towerThe five Holy Mountains have the rank of the Three Dukes. The other four make a ring, with the Song Mountain
midmost. To this one, in the fire-ruled south, where evil signs are rife, Heaven gave divine power, ordaining it
a peer. All the clouds and hazes are hidden in its girdle; And its forehead is beholden only by a few. ...I
came here in autumn, during the rainy season, When the sky was overcast and the clear wind gone. I quieted my mind
and prayed, hoping for an answer; For assuredly righteous thinking reaches to high heaven. And soon all the mountain-peaks
were showing me their faces; I looked up at a pinnacle that held the clean blue sky: The wide Purple-Canopy joined
the Celestial Column; The Stone Granary leapt, while the Fire God stood still. Moved by this token, I dismounted
to offer thanks. A long path of pine and cypress led to the temple. Its white walls and purple pillars shone, and
the vivid colour Of gods and devils filled the place with patterns of red and blue. I climbed the steps and, bending
down to sacrifice, besought That my pure heart might be welcome, in spite of my humble offering. The old priest
professed to know the judgment of the God: He was polite and reverent, making many bows. He handed me divinity-cups,
he showed me how to use them And told me that my fortune was the very best of all. Though exiled to a barbarous
land, mine is a happy life. Plain food and plain clothes are all I ever wanted. To be prince, duke, premier, general,
was never my desire; And if the God would bless me, what better could he grant than this ? – At night
I lie down to sleep in the top of a high tower; While moon and stars glimmer through the darkness of the clouds....
Apes call, a bell sounds. And ready for dawn I see arise, far in the east the cold bright sun.
|
 |