Inscribed in the Temple of the Wandering Genie
- Poetry of Han Hong

I face, high over this enchanted lodge, the Court of the Five Cities of Heaven,

And I see a countryside blue and still, after the long rain.

The distant peaks and trees of Qin merge into twilight,

And Had Palace washing-stones make their autumnal echoes.

Thin pine-shadows brush the outdoor pulpit,

And grasses blow their fragrance into my little cave.

...Who need be craving a world beyond this one?

Here, among men, are the Purple Hills

Poem translator: Kiang Kanghu