A Rural Home . The cock crows three times; the sky is almost light. Someone's lined up bowls of rice, along with flasks of tea. Anxiously, the peasants rush to start the ploughing early, I pull aside the willow shutter and gaze at the morning stars.
Year after year on solstice day, ever the wanderer; Swift and sudden, dead-end sorrows bogging me to death. My features upon the Jiang-- I grow old by myself; Locals' customs at world's end-- they're dear to each other. Goosefoot staff: after snowfall, I overlook Cinnabar Strath; Sounding jade come since levee, released from Purple Palace. My heart is torn in this hour, without one inch intact: As my road errs, in what place stay the 3 Realms of Qin?
. Each day I enjoy tea. I talk of it often. I have a wooden container I use each morning to draw water from the well. I bring the water into my home and heat it over a fire. I choose a tea to steep and then enjoy it while watching the sunrise. Each morning I take what I need from the well. Each morning it provides. It has always been there. Perhaps it always will.
Parting From Wang Wei . Quietly, I've waited here so long, Day after day; but now I must return. Now I go to seek the fragrant grass, But I grieve to part from my old friend. Who is there who would help me on the road? Understanding friends are few in life. I should just observe my solitude, And close again the gate of my old home.
Mourning Loss . When we two first became husband and wife Was seventeen years ago today. We couldn't look at each other enough, What loss could compare to this? Already, my temples are mostly white, I'd rather my body had finished its time. In the end, we'll share a tomb; Still not dead, I weep and weep.
As the southwest's myriad straths outpour, Even mighty foes--paired cliffs--divide. The earth from its mountain roots severed; The Jiang from its Moon Grottoes arrived. Pared to a fit, facing White Lord; Curved in a void, hiding Sun Terrace. Tho' His Deed of dredging & boring was fair, The power of the Potter's Wheel is immense!
Awaking on a Boat at Night . Su Shi . A light breeze soughs quietly, blowing river grasses. I open the hatch expecting rain; moonlight fills the lake. Boatman and river birds share the same dream; A large fish suddenly jumps and dives like a darting fox. Late at night people and creatures are oblivious of each other, While in my case alone, form and shadow delight each other. The dark tide appears at the bank, pity the cold crawlers, The setting moon hangs in the willow, see the spider suspended. In this hurried life, spent amid worries and troubles, Pure scenes pass before the eyes-- how long can they last? Cocks crow, bells sound, flocks of birds take flight. Drums beat on the bow, shout answers shout.
The cock crows three times; the sky is almost light. Someone's lined up bowls of rice, along with flasks of tea. Anxiously, the peasants rush to start the ploughing early, I pull aside the willow shutter and gaze at the morning stars.
A Heavenly Woman's Imprisoned in the Palace (Buddhist Dancers) Li Yu
. A heavenly woman's imprisoned in the palace at Penglai Hill, All are silent as she sleeps by day in the painted hall. Her glossy hair is spread like cloud on the pillow, Her embroidered clothes bear a wondrous fragrance. I secretly come and slide the pearl lock back, She's startled from her dream behind the silver screen. Her smiling face is overflowing with bliss, We gaze at each other with unbounded love.
Advice To Marpa Lotsawa . You Marpa, the translator from Tibet! Do not make the eight worldly dharmas the goal of your life. Do not create the bias of self and other, grasping and fixation. Do not slander friends or enemies. Do not distort the ways of others. Learning and contemplation are the torch that illumines the darkness. Do not be ambushed on the supreme path of liberation. Previously, we have been guru and disciple; Keep this with you in the future; do not give this up. This precious jewel of your mind, Do not throw it in the river like an idiot. Guard it carefully with undistracted attention, And you will accomplish all needs, desires, and intentions.
Sent North On A Rainy Night . You ask me what time I'll return, but I cannot give a time, The rain in the hills of Ba at night overflows the autumn pools. When can we trim the candle together by the western window, And talk together of the rain in the hills of Ba at night?
Idle Living . Though life is brief, feeling is everlasting; That is why man wants to live long. The sun and moon follow the stars. The whole world loves this name. The dew is cold, and the warm wind drops; The air is penetrating, the day bright. The departing swallow leaves no shadow; The returning wild goose brings a lingering cry. Wine can wash away a hundred woes, And chrysanthemums set a pattern for old age. Why should I, a hermit, Gaze vacantly at the change of seasons? The ministers are ashamed of their empty grain jars. The autumn chrysanthemums are alone in their beauty. I alone sing while fastening my garments. A feeling of melancholy stirs deep within me. It is true that there is much amusement in living, But in idling is there no accomplishment?
Ancient Air (39) . I climb up high and look on the four seas, Heaven and earth spreading out so far. Frost blankets all the stuff of autumn, The wind blows with the great desert's cold. The eastward-flowing water is immense, All the ten thousand things billow. The white sun's passing brightness fades, Floating clouds seem to have no end. Swallows and sparrows nest in the wutong tree, Yuan and luan birds perch among jujube thorns. Now it's time to head on back again, I flick my sword and sing Taking the Hard Road.
Snow in Spring . The new year's come, but still the plants don't grow, First in March I'm startled by grass shoots. The white snow thinks the colours of spring are late, So through the pavilion and trees it flies like blossom.
Sighs of Autumn Rains . In autumn rain, the grasses rot and die, Below the steps, the jueming's colour is fresh. Full green leaves cover the stems like feathers, And countless flowers bloom like golden coins. The cold wind, moaning, blows against you fiercely, I fear that soon you'll find it hard to stand. Upstairs the scholar lets down his white hair, He faces the wind, breathes the fragrance, and weeps.
Feelings on Watching the Moon . The times are hard: a year of famine has emptied the fields, My brothers live abroad- scattered west and east. Now fields and gardens are scarcely seen after the fighting, Family members wander, scattered on the road. Attached to shadows, like geese ten thousand li apart, Or roots uplifted into September's autumn air. We look together at the bright moon, and then the tears should fall, This night, our wish for home can make five places one.
Idle Wandering by Kuan Han-Ch'ing (1240 - 1320) Timeline
English version by Jerome P. Seaton
Original Language Chinese Taoist Buddhist 13th Century
go where my mind will sit when my heart's still drink when I'm thirsty and sing when I'm drunk when hard times come I find a pile of grass and sleep the days and months are long the world is vast and idleness is happiness
toss off the vintage wine use up the raw laugh beside the earthen pot ha, ha, ha, hum harmonies together with this rude old mountain bonz he has a pair of chickens I've brought along a duck and idleness is happiness
I've reined mind's horses locked up my monkey heart leapt up from red dust and evil-mannered wind who woke me from my shady dreams of Empire? I've left the field of honor and wormed into a nest of joys where idleness is happiness
he's ploughed the southern field and slept among the eastern hills I've been the way the world goes, often vainly measured bygones in my mind he's the saint and I'm the fool who'd argue that?
The Profound Definitive Meaning . For the mind that masters view the emptiness dawns In the content seen not even an atom exists A seer and seen refined until they're gone This way of realizing view, it works quite well
When meditation is clear light river flow There is no need to confine it to sessions and breaks Meditator and object refined until they're gone This heart bone of meditation, it beats quite well
When you're sure that conducts work is luminous light And you're sure that interdependence is emptiness A doer and deed refined until they're gone This way of working with conduct, it works quite well
When biased thinking has vanished into space No phony facades, eight dharmas, nor hopes and fears, A keeper and kept refined until they're gone This way of keeping samaya, it works quite well
When you've finally discovered your mind is dharmakaya And you're really doing yourself and others good A winner and won refined until they're gone This way of winning results, it works quite well.
In autumn rain, the grasses rot and die, Below the steps, the jueming's colour is fresh. Full green leaves cover the stems like feathers, And countless flowers bloom like golden coins. The cold wind, moaning, blows against you fiercely, I fear that soon you'll find it hard to stand. Upstairs the scholar lets down his white hair, He faces the wind, breathes the fragrance, and weeps.
Gushan Temple is to the north, Jiating pavilion west, The water's surface now is calm, the bottom of the clouds low. In several places, the first orioles are fighting in warm trees, By every house new swallows peck at spring mud. Disordered flowers have grown almost enough to confuse the eye, Bright grass is able now to hide the hooves of horses. I most love the east of the lake, I cannot come often enough Within the shade of green poplars on White Sand Embankment.
"You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain; I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care. As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown, I have a world apart that is not among men."
The times are hard: a year of famine has emptied the fields, My brothers live abroad- scattered west and east. Now fields and gardens are scarcely seen after the fighting, Family members wander, scattered on the road. Attached to shadows, like geese ten thousand li apart, Or roots uplifted into September's autumn air. We look together at the bright moon, and then the tears should fall, This night, our wish for home can make five places one
The old temple appears gloomy in the mist of autumn, A fishing boat is floating lonely in the first sounds of the evening bell. Over the clear water and quiet mountains white seagulls are flying, The wind subsides the clouds move lazily over a few red-leafed trees.
I stand as though only I am existing in heaven and earth— at this solitariness Kannon, you are smiling. Coming stealthily, who is it hitting the temple bell? It is late at night and t.me tor even the Buddha to go into dreaming. In the Lord Buddha's drowsy eyes the ancient country fields of Yamato Have their hazy existence.
Fifteen Articles of Taoist Master Wang Chongwang (1160 CE):
1. Cloistered residence 2. Wandering like clouds 3. Study of texts 4. Preparation of medicines 5. Building a home 6. Companions in the Tao 7. Sitting straight 8. Controlling the mind 9. Refining original inner nature 10. Pairing the Five Energies 11. Merging inner nature and destiny 12. Tao of the Sage 13. Going beyond the Three Worlds 14. Nourishing the Eternal Body 15. Leaving the world
This Autumn Scene's Worth Words Paint . this autumn scene's worth words paint red leaves fill up the mountain stream the path through the pines is set just so chrysanthemums glow gold around the easter hedge I raise this very proper goblet, drain the dregs the commoner who offers you the cup's fit for high post, but what's the use get back I'll study T'ao Ch'ien, learn to be drunk as he was.
To be able to be unhurried when hurried; To be able not to slack off when relaxed; To be able not to be frightened And at a loss loss for what to do, When frightened at at a loss; This is the learning that returns us To our natural state and transforms our lives.
Few people believe their Inherent mind is Buddha. Most will not take this seriously, And therefore are cramped. They are wrapped up in illusions, cravings, Resentments, and other afflictions, All because they love the cave of ignorance.
Do not go after the past, Nor lose yourself in the future. For the past no longer exists, And the future is not yet here. By looking deeply at things just as they are, In this moment, here and now, The seeker lives calmly and freely. You should be attentive today, For waiting until tomorrow is too late. Death can come and take us by surprise-- How can we gainsay it? The one who knows How to live attentively Night and day Is the one who knows The best way to be independent.
The round pearl has no hollows, The great raw gem isn't polished. What is esteemed by people of the Way is having no edges. Removing the road of agrement, senses and matter are empty. The free body, resting on nothing, stand out unique and alive.
Long ago there was an immortal man Who lived on the slope of Shooting Mountain. Riding clouds and commanding flying dragons, He did his breathing and supped on precious flowers. He could be heard, but not seen. Sighing sorrows and full emotions, Self-tortured, he had no companion; Grief and heartbreak piled upon him "Study the familiar to penetrate the sublime" But time is short and what's to be done?
How long had Ryoanji been there? You must have asked -- but there is no remembrance, just the rocks and the gravel and the wall and the very great silence, the rootedness of deep meditation, the weight of the rocks and the trees of this earth, as if their roots grew right down through your heart...
The Buddha Mind contains the universe. In this universe there is only one pure substance, One absolute and indivisible Truth. The notion of duality does not exist. The small mind contains only illusions of separateness, of division. It imagines myriad objects and defines truth in terms of relative opposites. Big is defined by small, good by evil, pure by defiled, Hidden by revealed, full by empty. What is opposition? It is the arena of hostility, of conflict and turmoil. Where duality is transcended peace reigns. This is the Dharma’s ultimate truth.
For thirty years I have been in search of the swordsman; Many a time have I watched the leaves decay and the branches shoot! Ever since I saw for once the peaches in bloom, Not a shadow of doubt do I cherish.
Do not stray from "Walking is Ch'an, sitting is Ch'an!" Essentially at ease whether talking or remaining silent, moving or staying still. It is serene even when greeted with sharp weapons, And is not worried about poisons.
It cannot be grasped, nor let go of, But, if you do neither, It goes its own way. If you remain silent, it will speak. Speak and it is silent.