Ballad of the Ancient Cypress

 Kong ming temple before be old cypress
 Branch like green bronze root like stone
 Frost bark slippery rain 40 spans
 Black colour meet sky 2000 feet
 Emperor and minister already with time end meet
 Tree tree still be man devotion
 Cloud come air meet Wu gorge long
 Moon out cold with snow mountain white
 Remember old road wind brocade pavilion east
 Former master war lord together hidden temple
 Towering branch trunk open country ancient
 Secluded red black door window empty
 Spread wide coil entrenched although get earth
 Dark far lofty many violent wind
 Give support naturally divine strength
 Upright reason creator skill
 Big hall if upset want rafter beam
 10,000 oxen turn head mountain weight
 Not reveal hidden meaning world already amazed
 Without evade cut down who can send
 Bitter heart how avoid contain mole crickets ants
 Fragrant leaves all through reside phoenix
 Aim scholar secluded person not resent sigh
 Always timber big hard to use


 Before Kongming's shrine stands an ancient cypress,
 Its branches are like green bronze, its roots just like stone.
 The frosted bark, slippery with rain, is forty spans around,
 Its blackness blends into the sky two thousand feet above.
 Master and servant have each already reached their time's end,
 The tree, however, still remains, receiving men's devotion.
 Clouds come and bring the air of Wuxia gorge's vastness,
 The moon comes out, along with the cold of snowy mountain whiteness.

 I think back to the winding road, east of Brocade Pavilion,
 Where the military master and his lord of old share a hidden temple.
 Towering that trunk, those branches, on the ancient plain,
 Hidden paintings, red and black, doors and windows empty.
 Spreading wide, coiling down, though it holds the earth,
 In the dim and distant heights are many violent winds.
 That which gives it its support must be heaven's strength,
 The reason for its uprightness, the creator's skill.

 If a great hall should teeter, wanting rafters and beams,
 Ten thousand oxen would turn their heads towards its mountain's weight.
 Its potential unrevealed, the world's already amazed,
 Nothing would stop it being felled, but what man could handle it?
 Its bitter heart cannot avoid the entry of the ants,
 Its fragrant leaves have always given shelter to the phoenix.
 Ambitious scholars, reclusive hermits- neither needs to sigh;
 Always it's the greatest timber that's hardest to put to use.

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