When the monkeys howl, I know that dawn has broken,
Though yet no sun has touched this shadowed valley
Around the peaks the clouds begin to gather,
While dew still glistens brightly on the flowers
My path winds round beside a curving river,
Then climbs far up among the rock-bound crags.
With gown held high, I wade the mountain torrent,
Then toil up wooden bridges, ever higher
Below, the river islets wind around,
But I enjoy following the sinuous stream.
Duckweed floats upon its turbid deeps,
Reeds and cattails cover its clear shallows.
I stand on a rock to fill my cup from a cataract,
I pull down branches and pluck their leafy scrolls.
In my mind's eye I see someone in the fold of the hill,
In a fig-leaf coat and girdle of rabbit-floss.
With a handful of orchids I grieve for my lost friendship,
I pluck the hemp, yet can tell no one how I feel
The sensitive heart will find beauty everywhere —
But with whom can I discuss such subtleties now?
When I look at all this, the world of men disappears,
In a flash of enlightenment everything falls from me