Before I settled down on this high summit,
I have already pierced through a long train
Of my transformations. Believing in fate,
I fled up to the hills and low-lying dales,
Here I tarried, contemplating my life
Washed away from the mundane cares.
This misty peak men don’t want to reach—
White clouds are always dim and dense.
Fine grasses I use for my sleeping mat,
The stellar sky serves me as my only cape.
Such a joyful life! I lay down my head
On a jade pillow—O Heaven and Earth!
Being steady like all these rocky cliffs
I comply with a turn of events; I anticipate.
Love ya!
Jane
Ron