Cold Mountain Poem Nine by Han-Shan.

Translated by Gary Snyder

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Rough and dark - the Cold Mountain trail,
Sharp cobbles - the ice creek bank.
Yammering, chirping - always birds
Bleak, alone, not even a lone hiker.
Whip, whip - the wind slaps my face
Whirled and tumbled - snow piles on my back
Morning after morning I don't see the sun
Year after year, not a sign of spring.