鐔津文集 18.27

18.27

Several hundred monasteries hide among scattered peaks; / in the vast dimness, how could one still discern your bell? / Spring buds have not yet received the oriole's report; / as paths wind around, we only follow the white deer's trail. / The hermitage beside the moon is forever unlocked; / when the impulse arrives from beyond the heavens, we suddenly meet. / Mountain dweller, do not laugh at the capped and robed guest; / there is also a wild goose who comes waiting to pestle for hire.