Once, my back wedded to the solid cliff, I sat silently, bathed in the full moon's light. I counted there ten thousand shapes, None with substance save the moon's own glow. The pristine mind is empty as the moon, I thought, and like the moon, freely shines. By what I knew of moon I knew the mind, Each mirror to each, profound as stone.

People ask the way to Cold Mountain. Cold Mountain? There is no road that goes through. Even in summer the ice doesn't melt; Though the sun comes out, the fog …

I brewed potions in a vain search for life everlasting, I read books, I sang songs of history, And today I've come home to Cold Mountain To pillow my head on t…

All the people in the Kuo-ch'ing monastery- They say, 'Han-shan is an idiot.' 'Am I really an idiot:' I reflect. But my reflections fail to solve the question:…