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Han Shan

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People ask the way to Cold Mountain
Roads do not go through
Summer arrives yet the ice has not melted
Though the sun is out itís foggy and dim
How did I arrive here?
My mind and yours are not the same
When our minds are one
You will be here too
Cold Mountain Transcendental Poetry by the t'ang zen poet han-shan (2005, 2011), tr. Wandering Poet, ISBN 978-0-6151-6006-1 ISBN 0615160069 LOC Number 2007937840

Han Shan

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People ask the way to Cold Mountain.
Cold Mountain? There is no road that goes through.
Even in summer the ice doesn't melt;
Though the sun comes out, the fog is blinding.
How can you hope to get there by aping me?
Your heart and mine are not alike.
If your heart were the same as mine,
Then you could journey to the very center!

Han Shan

Climb the steep Cold Mountain way
Roads to Cold Mountain are many and never ending
The valleys are long and deep, the peaks piled high
The streams are wide, the grass is thick
The moss is slippery though there is no rain
The pines sigh though there is no wind
Who can escape the snares of the world
And come to sit with me among the white clouds?

Han Shan

Summer was gone and now Indian summer. The grass was cold and there was no mist and no dew. After he left she would go in and light the gas and close the shatters, and he would go down the path and on to the village. To these two life had come quickly and gone, leaving not bitterness, but pity; not disillusion, but only pain.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land.

Ray Bradbury

Since I retired to Cold Mountain
Iíve lived by eating mountain fruits
What is there to worry about?
Life passes according to karma
The months pass like a flowing stream
Days and nights like sparks from flint
Heaven and earth endlessly change
While I sit happily among these cliffs

Han Shan
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