Philosophical Fridays

 

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Photo Credit — Danny James

                        Clambering up the Cold Mountain path,
                        The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on:
                         The long gorge choked with scree and boulders,
                         The wide creek, the mist-blurred grass.
                         The moss is slippery, though there’s been no rain.
                         The pine sings, but there’s no wind.
                         Who can leap the world’s ties
                         And sit with me among the white clouds.

 

 

Han-Shan