April
There is a meditative terrace
Left by the ancient Master Chi.
It is so high that it is always covered with white clouds.
Should the woodcutter see it,
He would not recognize it.
The mountain monks, however, were glad to find it.
They thought it would interest me
And took me there to see it.
Throughout the night dew drops
Fall leisurely from the bamboos;
During the day pure breezes blow from the pine grove.
Meditation is what I used to do as the first thing;
The terrace of Master Chi inspires me even more.
— Meng Hao-jan
There is a meditative terrace
Left by the ancient Master Chi.
It is so high that it is always covered with white clouds.
Should the woodcutter see it,
He would not recognize it.
The mountain monks, however, were glad to find it.
They thought it would interest me
And took me there to see it.
Throughout the night dew drops
Fall leisurely from the bamboos;
During the day pure breezes blow from the pine grove.
Meditation is what I used to do as the first thing;
The terrace of Master Chi inspires me even more.
— Meng Hao-jan
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