One hundred and twenty steps west of a small mound, through a grove of bamboos, hearing the water ringing as jade bracelets cuddling, I was delighted. Hewing the bushes, finally, I saw the petit tarn with azure water. The underside was of calm pebbles, while the shore was of turned ones, forming islets, terrains, cairns, and cliffs. The environ was of trees and vines, all green. Weaving, entwining, oscillating, and hanging, although different shapes, they danced with the wind.
Roughly a hundred fish in the petit tarn, freely as they were swimming in the open air. The sunlight pierced the surface, casting fish-shadows to the underside pebbles. Quietly, the fish were motionless; quickly they dashed away—as a play with us.
Try a panorama of the stream to the southeast—crooked as BeiDou[1] or a serpent. So vague; the bank—crooked as the teeth of a dog. So vague to know its origin.
I sat by the petit tarn, surrounded by the grove. Isolated, chill to the bones, I turned melancholy, collected. For this extreme loneliness, resting no longer, I recorded and left.
With me were Wu Wuling, Gong Gu and Zongxuan, my brother. And two other companions were the Cui boys, called Shuji and Fengyi.
[1] The Big Dipper or the Plough.
從小丘西行百二十步,隔篁竹,聞水聲,如鳴珮環,心樂之。伐竹取道,下見小潭,水尤清洌。全石以為底,近岸,卷石底以出,為坻,為嶼,為嵁,為巖。青樹翠蔓,蒙絡搖綴,參差披拂。
潭中魚可百許頭,皆若空游無所依。日光下澈,影布石上,佁然不動;俶爾遠逝,往來翕忽,似與游者相樂。
潭西南而望,斗折蛇行,明滅可見。其岸勢犬牙差互,不可知其源。
坐潭上,四面竹樹環合,寂寥無人,淒神寒骨,悄愴幽邃。以其境過清,不可久居,乃記之而去。
同游者:吳武陵,龔古,余弟宗玄。隸而從者,崔氏二小生:曰恕己,曰奉壹。