| 英譯： |
The pagoda seems to be surging into the air,
A lone form reaching up to the palace of heaven.
Climbing, you come to leave the mundane world
On a stairway winding right up to the sky.
Its lofty presence transcends our divine land;
Its soaring heights are the work of magic spirits.
Its four corners block out the white sun
And its seven stories brush the heavenly vault.
Peering down we point at birds in flight;
Leaning over we hear a fearful wind blowing.
The mountain ranges are like rolling waves
Drawing together as if going east to the sea.
Green pagoda trees line the imperial highway ‒
How exquisite the royal palace looks!
Autumn colours are coming in from the west,
Everything within the passes a bluish grey.
The Five Tombs of the emperors on the northern plain,
Old beyond measure, lie in a green haze.
The principle of purity can bring awakening;
I have always revered the superlative cause.
I vow to hang up my official cap and leave
For the enlightened way and its infinite worth.
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