Deep in the Forest of the Qinling Mountains

On misty, bamboo-laden slopes,

ancient trees cling

to steep inclines,

lives a wise

and stoic tree,

the rustling

of the leaves

of broadleaf birch,

swaying in the cool wind,

calls out to the panda,

come,

come and climb,

there is a look-out

up here,

where the

mist parts

and the world unfolds

above the shadows

where danger

lurks.