廣弘明集 30.192

30.192

靜心抱氷雪。暮齒迫桑榆。太息波川迅。悲哉人世拘。歲聿皆採穫。冬晚具嚴枯。濯流濟八水。開襟入四衢。茲山靈妙合。當與天地俱。石瀨乍深淺。崖煙遞有無。缺碑橫古𡑞。盤木臥荒途。行行備履歷。步步轔崴紆。高僧迹共遠。勝地心相符。樵隱各有得。丹青獨不渝（寺猶有朗詮二師居士明僧。紹治中蕭眎素圖像）遺風佇芳桂。比德喻生芻。寄言長往客。悽然傷鄙夫。

With a still mind, I embrace ice and snow;
Declining years press near the mulberries and elms.
Deeply sighing, the rushing river flows swift;
Alas, how bound is the human world!
The year draws to a close, all is harvested;
Late in winter, harsh witheredness is complete.
Washing in the currents, I cross the eight waters;
Opening my robes, I enter the four thoroughfares.
This mountain unites numinous wonders;
It surely will endure with Heaven and Earth.
Over stony rapids, it turns suddenly deep or shallow;
Among cliff mists, it alternates between presence and void.
A broken stele lies across an ancient mound;
Coiled trees recline on the desolate path.
Step by step, I traverse the full journey;
Pace by pace, wheeling through craggy bends.
The eminent monks' traces share great distance;
This supreme site accords with my heart.
Woodcutters and recluses each gain their part;
The painted colors alone do not fade
(In the temple there are still portraits of the two Masters Lang and Quan, the Upāsaka Ming Sengshao, and Xiao Shisu, Attendant Officer of the Bureau of Merits).
Their lingering grace waits like fragrant cassia;
Their compared virtue is likened to fresh-cut grass.
I send these words to the travelers who have departed forever;
Sorrowfully, it grieves this lowly man.