<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 登香爐峰頂>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1919>
<BookName: Translation from the Chinese>
<Translator: Arthur Waley>
<TranslatedTitle: Having Climbed to the Topmost Peak of the Incense-Burner Mountain>
<BookPage: 211>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
迢迢香鑪峰，
心存耳目想。
終年牽物役，
今日方一往。
攀蘿蹋危石，
手足勞俛仰。
同遊三四人，
兩人不敢上。
上到峰之頂，
目眩神怳怳。
高低有萬尋，
闊狹無數丈。
不窮視聽界，
焉識宇宙廣。
江水細如繩，
湓城小於掌。
紛吾何屑屑，
未能脫塵鞅。
歸去思自嗟，
低頭入蟻壤。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Up and up, the Incense-Burner Peak!
In my heart is stored what my eyes and ears perceived.
All the year－detained by official business;
To-day at last I got a chance to go.
Grasping the creepers, I clung to dangerous rocks;
My hands and feet－weary with groping for hold.
There came with me three or four friends,
But two friends dared not go further.
At last we reached the topmost crest of the Peak;
My eyes were blinded, my soul rocked and reeled.
The chasm beneath me－ten thousand feet;
The ground I stood on, only a foot wide.
If you have not exhausted the scope of seeing and hearing,
How can you realize the wideness of the world?
The waters of the River looked narrow as a ribbon,
P'ēn Castle smaller than a man's fist.
How it clings, the dust of the world's halter!
It chokes my limbs: I cannot shake it away.
Thinking of retirement, I heaved an envious sigh,
Then, with lowered head, came back to the Ants' Nest.
<End Translation>