With no god, but with spirit;
   With no mass of tiny things;
   Up on high, with the white clouds --
   Borne aloft on breezy wings.
 From afar all seems in place.
   When you arrive it's not there.
   Just like acting with the Way
   Leaves customs beyond repair.
 Chaotic mountain woodlands,
   Sweet green moss in the sunshine.
   Keep reciting your mantra,
   Till it's lost among the pines.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry (二十四诗品.) It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a crude translation of the twenty-first of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 超诣 and it’s been translated as “The Transcendental” and “Super”