Song of the Peach Tree Spring
A fisherman sailed up a river
he loved spring in the hills
On both banks peach blossom
closed over the farther reaches
He sat and looked at the red trees
not knowing how far he was
And he neared the head of the green stream
seeing no one
A gap in the hills, a way through
twists and turns at first
Then hills gave on to a vastness
of level land all around
From far away it seemed
trees up to the clouds
He approached, and there were many houses
among flowers and bamboos
Foresters meeting would exchange
names from Han times
And the people had not altered
the Ch’in style of their clothes
They had all lived near
the head of the Wuling River
And now cultivated their rice and gardens
out of the world
Bright Moon and under the pines
outside their windows peace
Sun up among the clouds
fowls and dogs call
Amazed to hear of the world’s intruder
all vied to see him
And take him home and ask him
about his country and place
At first light in the alleys
they swept the flowers from their gates
At dusk the fishermen and woodmen
came in on the stream
They had first come here
for refuge from the world
And then had become immortals
and never returned
Who, clasped there in the hills,
would know of the world of men?
And whoever might gaze from the world
would make out only clouds and hills
The fisherman did not suspect
that paradise is hard to find
And his earthly spirit lived on
and he thought of his own country
So he left that seclusion not reckoning
the barriers of mountain and stream
To take leave at home and then return
for as long as it might please him
He was sure of his way there,
he could never go wrong
How could he know that peaks and valleys
can so soon change?
When the time came he simply remembered
having gone deep into the hills
But how many green streams
lead to cloud-high woods –
When spring comes, everywhere
there are peach blossom streams
No one can tell which may be
the Spring of Paradise.
- Wang Wei
740AD