Song of White Cloud—Farewell to Liu the Recluse

From the mountains you come; to the mountains you go,
White clouds will follow you high and low,
High and low.
When you come into Southern mountains high,
Following you, o’er Southern streams white clouds will fly.
O’er Southern water blue,
There’s ivy cloak for you,
You should go back and lie on cloud as white clouds do.

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