40
Han-Shan

I climb the road to Cold Mountain,
The road to Cold Mountain that never ends.
The valleys are long and strewn with stones;
The streams broad and banked with thick grass.
The moss is slippery, though no rain has fallen;
Pines sigh, but it is not the wind.
Who can break from the snares of the world
And sit with me among the white clouds?

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