鐔津文集 17.88

17.88

Returning at year's end, the stone chamber is cold; / Amidst pines and wisteria in desolate stillness, I linger. / Only knowing that another year has passed beneath the forest, / I do not see the ten thousand hardships of the human world. / For summoning the recluse, there are poems inscribed on the stone record; / For explaining away ridicule, there is no theory to present to the times. / This mind is already united with Subhūti; / The body resembles a floating cloud—no need to look upon it.