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!