From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:

When a man, in exhilaration, lies intoxicated on strewn flowers, the heavens become his blanket and the earth his pillow. And when he, in subduing artifice, sits in a trance on a huge rock, he feels that from time immemorial to the present moment all things are but ephemeral.