Monday, October 31, 2011
The View, Concisely Put
This mind that knows emptiness
Is itself the awakened mind, bodhicitta.
The Buddha potential is just this.
The sugata essence is just this.
Because of tasting what is,
It is also the great bliss.
The understanding of secret mantra is just this.
Means and knowledge is just this.
This self-knowing, while one is still defiled,
Does not depend on other things,
So self-existing wakefulness is just this.
Being aware, it is cognizance.
A natural knowing that is free of thought.
This self-knowing cannot possibly form thoughts.
Without conceptualizing 'a mind,'
Since it is not something to be conceived,
This original wakefulness, cognizant yet thought-free,
Is like the wisdom of the Tathagata.
Therefore, it is taught, "Realize that luminous mind
Is the mind of original wakefulness,
And don't seek an enlightenment separate from that."
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Climbing Ciensi Pagoda with Gao She and Xue Du
Macho pagoda sprouts forth,
Alone, lofting to Heaven's Gate.
In darkness stone steps coil upward,
Emerge jutting above the world.
Towering over the Imperial Capital,
Awesome like a demon's work.
Its four corners block the sun,
Its seventh story grasps the firmament.
Below glimpse soaring birds,
Below again hear soughing wind.
Mountain chain undulates like surf,
Pounding ever straight eastward.
Green locust trees on Emperor's Highway,
Shade carved palace buildings.
Autumn color arrives from the west,
Impressive the bounteous Guanzhong Plain!
Five Tombs on the north slope,
Eternally green in moist mist.
Buddha's words now revealed,
In the name of my ancestors.
I swear in future I will retire,
Comprehend the Dao,
Invest in the inexhaustible.�
Saturday, October 22, 2011
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
One night . . . a pitiful -looking skeleton appeared and said these words:
A melancholy autumn wind
Blows through the world;
The pampas grass waves,
As we drift to the moor,
Drift to the sea.
What can be done
With the mind of a man
That should be clear
But though he is dressed up in a monk’s robe,
Just lets life pass him by?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Toward dawn I dozed off, and in my dream I found myself surrounded by a group of skeletons . . . . One skeleton came over to me and said:
Are no more.
All are empty dreams
Devoid of meaning.
Violate the reality of things
And babble about
"God" and "the Buddha"
And you will never find
the true Way.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
A FAREWELL TO SECRETARY SHUYUN
AT THE XIETIAO VILLA IN XUANZHOU
Since yesterday had to throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.
The autumn wildgeese have a long wind for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.
The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the School of Heaven,
And I am a Lesser Xie growing up by your side.
We both are exalted to distant thought,
Aspiring to the sky and the bright moon.
But since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords,
And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishingboat.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
my self of long ago
what will happen to buddha
man of original inactivity
you must travel
no such thing as mind
all are just as they are
to return to the sky of our native place?
who is the buddha?
i would like to offer you something
we have no companion
the real form of buddha
why are people called buddhas
original man must return
Friday, October 14, 2011
Lowly hut is mine
South-east from the capital:--
Thus I choose to dwell;--
And the world in which I live
Men have named a "Mount of Gloom."
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
A SONG OF RUNNING-HORSE RIVER IN FAREWELL
TO GENERAL FENG OF THE WESTERN EXPEDITION
Look how swift to the snowy sea races Running-Horse River! --
And sand, up from the desert, flies yellow into heaven.
This Ninth-month night is blowing cold at Wheel Tower,
And valleys, like peck measures, fill with the broken boulders
That downward, headlong, follow the wind.
...In spite of grey grasses, Tartar horses are plump;
West of the Hill of Gold, smoke and dust gather.
O General of the Chinese troops, start your campaign!
Keep your iron armour on all night long,
Send your soldiers forward with a clattering of weapons!
...While the sharp wind's point cuts the face like a knife,
And snowy sweat steams on the horses' backs,
Freezing a pattern of five-flower coins,
Your challenge from camp, from an inkstand of ice,
Has chilled the barbarian chieftain's heart.
You will have no more need of an actual battle! --
We await the news of victory, here at the western pass!
Monday, October 10, 2011
PARTING AT A WINE-SHOP IN NANJING
A wind, bringing willow-cotton, sweetens the shop,
And a girl from Wu, pouring wine, urges me to share it
With my comrades of the city who are here to see me off;
And as each of them drains his cup, I say to him in parting,
Oh, go and ask this river running to the east
If it can travel farther than a friend's love!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
The flock of chickens starts to call wildly,
As guests arrive, the chickens begin to fight.
I drive the chickens up into the tree,
And now I hear the knock on the wicker gate.
Four or five elders from the village,
Ask how long and far I have been travelling.
Each of them brings something in his hands,
We pour the clear and thick wine in together.
They apologise because it tastes so thin,
There's no-one left to tend the millet fields.
Conscription still continues without end,
The children are campaigning in the east.
I ask if I can sing a song for the elders,
The times so hard, I'm ashamed by these deep feelings.
I finish the song, look to heaven and sigh,
Everyone around is freely weeping.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
When I look abroad
O'er the wide-stretched "Plain of Heaven,"
Is the moon the same
That on Mount Mikasa rose,
In the land of Kasuga?
Thursday, October 6, 2011
If you can smash through a single thought,
Then all deluded thinking will suddenly be stripped off.
You will feel
Like a flower in the sky that casts no shadows,
Like a bright sun emitting boundless light,
Like a limpid pond, transparent and clear.
After experiencing this,
There will be immeasurable feelings of light and ease,
And a sense of liberation.
There is nothing marvelous or extraordinary about it.
Do not rejoice and wallow in this ravishing experience.
If you do, then the Mara of Joy will possess you.
- Han Shan Te'-Ch'ing, 1600
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
ON LIVING AT YUN YI SHI
(a place name which means "the stone moved by the clouds")
I like it best when I'm living out in the open,
As in the old days when I'd forget the years were passing,
When I'd follow where fate led me.
I thought nothing could change me.
But the Pearl of the Heart works in such an exquisitely subtle way.
It fills you. .. makes you feel complete with Heaven's Nature.
There's no need to move.
Before the beginning of this senseless world
The clouds moved this fist of a stone right here
To this very place.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
RETURNING AT NIGHT TO LUMEN MOUNTAIN
A bell in the mountain-temple sounds the coming of night.
I hear people at the fishing-town stumble aboard the ferry,
While others follow the sand-bank to their homes along the river.
...I also take a boat and am bound for Lumen Mountain --
And soon the Lumen moonlight is piercing misty trees.
I have come, before I know it, upon an ancient hermitage,
The thatch door, the piney path, the solitude, the quiet,
Where a hermit lives and moves, never needing a companion.