The
forest,
The hammocks,
And the graveled earth.
Water murmuring,
Birds chirping,
And the wind whistling.
Sound of the flute,
The drum,
And supraworldly sounds.
Gently
bow the bamboos
To a cool breeze sailing along;
Beneath the Quan Yin cloth
The eyes remain half-open.
In this warm spring at Hsihu
Your divine love radiates.
Brothers and sisters,
Together we pray,
All the best for Master!