Son Mountain 12: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

In the mountains it’s cold

always cold and not just this year—

peaks upon peaks choked in snow,

deep dark woods hawking up mists,

things only begin to grow after the start of summer

and leaves fall before autumn begins.

Anyone who wanders here gets lost

looking and looking not seeing the sky.

(from the translations of RP-6, RH-67, BW-47, GS-3)

Son Mountain 11: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

I came to sit on Cold Mountain

and stayed for thirty years—

yesterday I looked back on friends and relatives

but more than half had dropped to Yellow Springs,

slowly vanishing as fire burns a candle,

passing as a river always flowing.

This morning as I face my solitary shadow

quickly tears are running in two streams.

(from the translations of RP-53, RH-49, BW-85, GS-10)

Son Mountain 10: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

Since I disappeared to Cold Mountain

I’ve lived off its fruits and berries—

what worry is there in a life

abiding in the elements of cause,

days and months flowing like a stream,

time sparking off of rocks.

The world can change with heaven and earth

but I’m content to sit within these cliffs.

(from the translations of RP-169, RH-170, GS-17)

Son Mountain 9: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

When someone sees Cold Mountain

all declare he’s wild and crazy—

his face isn’t much to look at,

his body is wrapped in rags and fur,

they don’t understand his words

and he doesn’t speak their words.

His reply to all these passersby:

come and gaze on Cold Mountain.

(from the translations of RP-218, RH-220, GS-24, BW-57)

Son Mountain 8: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

When looking for a place to dwell

Cold Mountain gives enduring shelter—

light winds blow through hidden pines

and closer it sounds better,

beneath them is a silver-haired presence

murmuring immortal words.

It’s been ten years since I’ve returned

forgetting the way I arrived.

(from the translations of RP-4, RH-20, GS-5, BW-50)

Son Mountain 7: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

People ask the way to Cold Mountain

but Cold Mountain isn’t attainable by road—

in summer the ice never melts,

when the sun’s out, it’s hidden by fog.

How did one like myself get here, you ask?

Maybe my heart and yours aren’t the same.

If your heart were the same as mine

you’d already be here inside.

(from the translations of RP-16, RH-226, BW-82, GS-6)

Son Mountain 6: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

I enjoy this space of natural awareness

amid the mist and vines and dark caves—

its wilderness is limitless

with clouds as easy friends

and roads that never reach the world

in mindlessness no one may reason away.

At night I sit alone on bedrock

until the moon ascends Cold Mountain.

(from the translations of RP-224, RH-226, BW-49, AT-27)

Son Mountain 5: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

Fantastic, this passage to Cold Mountain

with not a sign of horse or cart—

one stream after another who can remember,

peak upon peak going who knows how high,

a thousand seedlings bent with dew,

tall pines sighing in the same wind.

Now that I’ve gone off trail,

form is asking shadow for the way.

(from the translations of RP-3, RH-3, GS1, BW-48)

Son Mountain 4 [a Cold Mountain Transcreation]

Cold Mountain holds so many wonders

climbers find themselves terrified—

when the moon is shining, the water is brilliant,

when the wind is blowing, grasses stir and sigh,

bare plum trees bloom with snow,

dead trees leaf with clouds.

A little rain transforms everything

but unless all is clear, you’ll never get through.

(from the translations of RP-157, RH-154, GS14, BW-45)

RP-157

Cold Mountain has so many wonders

climbers all get scared

water shimmers in the moonlight

plants rustle in the wind

withered plum trees bloom with snow

snags grow leaves of clouds

touched by rain they all revive

unless it's clear you can't get through

RH-154

Han-shan has many hidden wonders;

Climbers are always struck with awe.

When the moon shines, the waters are clear and bright;

When the wind blows, grasses rustle and sigh.

Withered plums, the snow becomes their blossoms;

Branchless trees have clouds filling in for their leaves.

Touched by rain, it's transformed—all fresh and alive;

If it's not a clear day, you cannot ascend.

BW-45

Cold Mountain is full of weird sights;

People who try to climb it always get scared.

When the moon shines, the water glints and

sparkles;

When the wind blows, the grasses rustle and sigh.

Snowflakes make blossoms for the bare plum,

Clouds in place of leaves for the naked trees.

At a touch of rain, the whole mountain shimmers

But only in good weather can you make the climb.

GS-14

Cold Mountain has many hidden wonders,

People who climb here are always getting scared.

When the moon shines, water sparkles clear

When the wind blows, grass swishes and rattles.

On the bare plum, flowers of snow

On the dead stump, leaves of mist.

At the touch of rain it all turns fresh and live

At the wrong season you can't ford the creeks.

Son Mountain 3 [a Cold Mountain Transcreation]

Following the way to Cold Mountain

undertakes a road that never ends—

the chasm is long and filled with boulders and rocks,

the watercourse is wide and veiled with reeds and grasses,

the moss is slick despite the lack of rain,

the pines sigh without any wind.

Who can leap directly from this twisted world

and sit with me among the white clouds?

(from the translations of RP-32, RH-8, GS8, BW-40, JPS-16)

RH-8

Climb up! Ascend! The way to Han-shan;

But on Han-shan the roads never end.

The valleys are long, with boulders in heaps and piles;

The streams are wide, with grasses both wet and damp.

The moss is slippery—it has nothing to do with the rain;

The pines sigh and moan, but they don't rely on the wind.

Who can transcend the cares of the world,

And sit with me in the white clouds?

RP-32

Who takes the cold mountain road

takes a road that never ends

the rivers are long and piled with rocks

the streams are wide and choked with grass

it’s not the rain that makes the moss slick

and it’s not the wind that makes the pines moan

who can get past the tangles of the world

and sit with me in the clouds?

BW-40

I climb the road to Cold Mountain,

The road to Cold Mountain that never ends.

The valleys are long and strewn with stones;

The streams broad and banked with thick grass.

Moss is slippery, though no rain has fallen;

Pines sigh, but it isn't the wind.

Who can break from the snares of the world

And sit with me among the white clouds?

GS-8

Clambering up the Cold Mountain path,

The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on:

The long gorge choked with scree and boulders,

The wide creek, the mist blurred grass.

The moss is slippery, though there's been no rain

The pine sings, but there's no wind.

Who can leap the world's ties

And sit with me among the white clouds?

JPS-16

Set foot on Han Shan’s Way?

Han Shan’s road is endless . . .

The gorge is long. Rocks, and rocks and rocks,

jut up.

The torrent’s wide, reeds almost hide the far side.

The moss is slippery even without rain.

The pines sing: the wind is real enough.

Who’s ready to leap free of the world’s traces

to come to sit with me among white clouds?