The Mountain of Ba Doi
Poet: Ho Xuan Huong
A gap, a pass and still another pass
Praise to the sculptor of these steep slopes...
A gap, a pass and still another pass
Praise to the sculptor of these steep slopes
The gate opens, crimson with a crested crown,
A rock hidden there, dark under the moss.
The pine branch shivers with the coming of the storm.
Like pearls shines the dew on the leaves of the drenched willow
Wise men, people of great virtue... no one turns away
No one so finished, broken knees, flat feet
They still are keen to climb.
