Classic Poem

I climbed these crags to build a secluded cabin,
Brushing aside the clouds I rested at Stone Gate.
Who can walk on these slippery mosses here,
Or clutch the dolichos plants to keep from falling?
On autumn days the wind goes howling past,
But in the spring the place is full of flowers
My friend has gone and has not yet returned,
Small hope I have of seeing him again.
Our jewelled mats are thick with scented dust,
While golden beakers brim with crystal wine
What good to me are the waves on Dongting Lake?
In vain I climb up by the cassia boughs.
I long for someone far off as the Milky Way,
My lonely shadow is left with its memories
I swim in the lake down at the foot of the rocks,
And looking up, see the apes swing through the trees
Mornings, I wait for the rush of the evening breeze,
Evenings, I watch for the morning sun to rise
Light cannot linger under these beetling crags,
In the forest depths the slightest sound carries far
When sadness has gone then thought can return again,
Once wisdom has come, passion no longer exists
Would that I were the charioteer of the sun!
Only this would bring some solace to my soul
Not for the common herd do I say these things,
I should like to talk them over with the wise.