My servant wakes at break of dawn,
ties on sandals and comes to say,
“Today the road ahead is hard—
that ridge up there is known as ‘Rough.’”
And sure enough that stretch of half a mile
takes half a day of trudging along.
We twist left, and turn back to the right;
above, sharp peaks, below the fall is sheer.
If not a conch, crawling round a spiral,
we are a snail inching through a hall.
Twisting, turning, as if in prostration;
bending, writhing, dazed we'll lose our way!
At first unhappy, but later rather glad;
at first quite frightened, later with a smile.
Crossing mountains is like reading books:
you must go on a while before it gets good.
And it is also like making friendships:
how can you suddenly have total trust?
Although I make apologies to Master Ching,
this place reminds me of his personality!
For now, I'll follow Ch'ang-li's example:
be thankful for short rests, don't rush ahead!