Classic Poem

If you don't come to the mountains in autumn
you will never know the grandeur of the autumn scene.
Here are dried up riverbeds, filled with skinny rocks,
trees shedding leaves, revealing mountains underneath.
Wind-swept rain, like dancing dragons in pairs;
the traveler's heart, alone, between the sky and earth…
Early morning cold—impossible to sleep;
the temple bell echoes across the western peak.