With a voice as vast as an ocean that sounds all sounds, Producing numberless wondrous words, I shall sing, through all the kalpas of time to come In praise of the ocean of merit in the depths of the Buddha's heart.
Beyond thinking, beyond speaking, these depths are still greater, and neither my word nor my heart can plumb them.
Before the mountain and by grace of nature I was allowed to realize "Oh! I am only a child!" Tendered by spruce and birds I saw without my usual defenses and endless thinking I know anything or everything coming between me and creation.
The body of man is like a flicker of lightning existing only to return to Nothingness. Like the spring growth that shrivels in autumn. Waste no thought on the process for it has no purpose, Coming and going like dew.
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 time for even the Buddha to go into dreaming. In the Lord Buddha's drowsy eyes the ancient country fields of Yamato Have their hazy existence.
If one becomes free of viewpoints, objects are no longer experienced in terms of comparisons. The timelessness of moments and the stillness of movements further tranlsate to the sizelessness of objects. In this realm, there is no concept of whole or part.
Clambering up the Cold Mountain path, The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on: The long gorge choked with scree and boulders, The wide creek, the mist-blurred grass. The moss is slippery, though there's been no rain. The pine sings, but there's no wind. Who can leap the world's ties And sit with me among the white clouds.
The Perfect Way knows no difficulties Except that it refuses to make preferences; Only when freed from hate and love, It reveals itself fully and without disguise; A tenth of an inch's difference, And heaven and earth are set apart; If you wish to see it before your own eyes, Have no fixed thoughts either for or against it.
The secret of the receptive Must be sought in stillness; Within stillness there remains The potential for action. If you force empty sitting, Holding dead images in mind, The tiger runs, the dragon flees -- How can the elixir be given?
If one becomes free of viewpoints, objects are no longer experienced in terms of comparisons. The timelessness of moments and the stillness of movements further tranlsate to the sizelessness of objects. In this realm, there is no concept of whole or part
I made my home amidst this human bustle, Yet I hear no clamour from the carts and horses. My friend, you ask me how this can be so? A distant heart will tend towards like places. From the eastern hedge, I pluck chrysanthemum flowers, And idly look towards the southern hills. The mountain air is beautiful day and night, The birds fly back to roost with one another. I know that this must have some deeper meaning, I try to explain, but cannot find the words.
Calm in quietude is not real calm; when you can be calm in the midst of activity, this is the true state of nature. Happiness in comfort is not real happiness; when you can be happy in the midst of hardship, then you see the true potential of the mind.
. Mind, mind, mind -- above the Path. Here on my mountain, gray hair down, I cherish bamboo sprouts, brush carefully By pine twigs. Burning incense, I open a book: mist over flagstones. Rolling the blind, I contemplate: Moon in the pond. Of my old friends How many know the Way
Ballad of Heaven . The River of Heaven wheels round at night Drifting the circling stars, At Silver Bank, the floating clouds Mimic the murmur of water. By the Palace of Jade the cassia blossoms Have not yet fallen, Fairy maidens gather their fragrance For their dangling girdle-sachets.
The Princess from Ch’in rolls up her blinds, Dawn at the north casement. In front of the window, a planted kola nut Dwarfs the blue phoenix. The King’s son plays his pipes Long as goose quills, Summoning dragons to plough the mist And plant Jade Grass.
Sashes of pink as clouds at dawn Skirts of lotus-root silk, They walk on Blue Island, gathering Fresh orchids in spring.