Calling on a Taoist Recluse in Daitian Mountain without MeetingHim
Dogs’ barks are muffled by the rippling brook,
Peach blossoms tinged with dew much redder look.
In the thick woods a deer is seen at times,
Along the stream I hear no noonday chimes.
In the blue haze which wild bamboos divide,
Tumbling cascades hang on green mountainside.
Where is the Taoist gone? None can tell me,
Saddened, I lean on this or that pine tree.
Theyvanished into the haze near the horizon.