At the foot is the endless Gobi.
Trees and grass are isolated.
Stones and sand are exposed.
The desolate bald mountain trembled in the wind.
There are no birds in the air.
Clouds are iron gray.
I don't know if I should stop.
At this point, I look further,
Like a scene in a dream,
I saw a series of snow peaks,
With its amazing beauty and mystery,
Let me be full of awe and not be lonely.
Is this it? It was written by the poet Buyi. It's just called vilen in the north.