1. On a bridge, whose breadth the eye cannot perceive,
When the visitor is wearied by the great breadth of the void,

2. Firmly constructed, its flesh never wasted by time,
Its legs above the rocks are rocks,

3. Splitting itself from its loins are its wounds,
And the travelers reach not where it turns,

4. Covered with layers of high seats, as for its bones,
They are like pavement, and as for its sides, they are like silk.

5. It seems as if, when I ascend the incline of its back,
On the most exalted parts of the winds, I am a captive.