<Header>
<Author: 王維>
<Title: 終南山>
<Format: 五言律詩>
<Year: 2006>
<BookName: THE SELECTED POEMS OF WANG WEI>
<Translator: Hington, David>
<TranslatedTitle: Whole-South Mountains>
<BookPage: 33>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
太乙近天都，
連山接海隅。
白雲迴望合，
青靄入看無。
分野中峰變，
陰晴衆壑殊。
欲投人處宿，
隔水問樵夫。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Star mountains for a deep-sky capital, these
Great-Origin peaks stretch to the far seas.
Returned to white cloud, my gaze is whole:
in azure haze, sight empties nonbeing utterly.
Our star-lands orbit around this central peak,
valleys all shifting shadow and light. Here,
if I wanted human company for the night,
I'd cross water, visit a woodcutter, no more.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Star mountains for a deep-sky capital,
these Great-Origin peaks stretch to the far seas.
Returned to white cloud, my gaze is whole:
in azure haze, sight empties nonbeing utterly.
Our star-lands orbit around this central peak,
valleys all shifting shadow and light.
Here, if I wanted human company for the night,
I'd cross water, visit a woodcutter, no more.
<End Formatted Translation>