Here you will find the Poem Three-Mountain Pass of poet Ho Xuan Huong
A cliff face. Another. And still a third. Who was so skilled to carve this craggy scene: the cavern's red door, the ridge's narrow cleft, the black knoll bearded with little mosses? A twisting pine bough plunges in the wind, showering a willow's leaves with glistening drops. Gentlemen, lords, who could refuse, though weary and shaky in his knees, to mount once more?
