The Heaven-Shaking Sage (Sun Wukong)
A golden staff descends from clouded heights,
To shatter legions of the jade-clad host;
The Monkey King, through thousand-year-long fights,
Is he who mocks the Heavens’ pride the most.
With seventy-two shapes to mask his frame,
He dances through the rain of silver spears;
A rebel spirit with a branded name,
Who laughs away the ancient gods’ cold fears.
No iron chain can bind his restless soul,
No mountain’s weight can crush his stubborn will;
He seizes from the stars his own control,
While thunder-drums are echoing and shrill.
The celestial pillars tremble at his stride,
Before the storm of his immortal pride.
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