西下峨眉峰。
Coming down the west peak of Mount Brow.
为我一挥手，
He sweeps his fingers o’er its strings,
如听万壑松。
I hear the wind through pine-trees sough.
客心洗流水，
A running stream washes my heart,
馀响入霜钟。
With evening bells its echo’s loud,
不觉碧山暮。
I do not feel the sun depart
秋云暗几重？
From mountains green and autumn cloud.