Buddhists From China

"Life has no price because money cannot buy life. We should respect the value of being alive and of all living beings. Not only should we protect the lives of others, we should also respect our own life. We should be a lamp that illuminates and warms those who surround us. We should be a tree that shelters and comforts. We should be a bridge that guides all beings to the shore of happiness. We should be a raindrop that nurtures both body and mind."

"The most striking characteristic of Po Chü-i's poetry is its verbal simplicity. There is a story that he was in the habit of reading his poems to an old peasant woman and altering any expression which she could not understand. The poems of his contemporaries were mere elegant diversions which enabled the scholar to display his erudition, or the literary juggler his dexterity. ... No poet in the world can ever have enjoyed greater contemporary popularity than Po."

"Although there have been many wars in China, the natural outlook of the Chinese is very pacifistic. I do not know of any other country where a poet would have chosen, as Po-Chui did in one of the poems translated by Mr. Waley, called by him The Old Man with the Broken Arm, to make a hero of a recruit who maimed himself to escape military service."

"Like the poet Po Chüyi, the Chinese scholar "utilized Confucianism to order his conduct, utilized Buddhism to cleanse his mind, and then utilized history, paintings, mountains, rivers, wine, music and song to soothe his spirit.""

"在天願作比翼鳥 在地願為連理枝 天長地久有時盡 此恨綿綿無絶期"

"可憐光彩生門戸 遂令天下父母心 不重生男重生女"

"春寒賜浴華清池 温泉水滑洗凝脂"

"A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear Softly shaking my ten feet of line. Though my body sits waiting for fish to come, My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness. Long ago a white-headed man Also fished at the same river's side; A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish, At seventy years, he caught Wen Wang. But I, when I come to cast my hook in the stream, Have no thought either of fish or men. Lacking the skill to capture either prey, I can only bask in the autumn water's light. When I tire of this, my fishing also stops; I go to my home and drink my cup of wine."

"I remember, when I was young, How easily my mood changed from sad to gay. If I saw wine, no matter at what season, Before I drank it, my heart was already glad. But now that age comes, A moment of joy is harder and harder to get. And always I fear that when I am quite old The strongest liquor will leave me comfortless."

"In the depth of the night not daring to let any one know I secretly took a huge stone and dashed it against my arm. For drawing the bow and waving the banner now wholly unfit; I knew henceforward I should not be sent to fight in Yün-nan. Bones broken and sinews wounded could not fail to hurt; I was ready enough to bear pain, if only I got back home. My arm—broken ever since; it was sixty years ago. One limb, although destroyed,—whole body safe! But even now on winter nights when the wind and rain blow From evening on till day's dawn I cannot sleep for pain. Not sleeping for pain Is a small thing to bear, Compared with the joy of being alive..."

"I was born in the Realms of Etiquette; In early years, unprotected and poor. Alone, I learnt to distinguish between Evil and Good; Untutored, I toiled at bitter tasks. The World's Law honours Learning and Fame; Scholars prize marriages and Caps. With these fetters I gyved my own hands; Truly I became a much-deceived man. At ten years old I learnt to read books; At fifteen, I knew how to write prose. At twenty I was made a Bachelor of Arts; At thirty I became a Censor at the Court. Above, the duty I owe to Prince and parents; Below, the ties that bind me to wife and child. The support of my family, the service of my country— For these tasks my nature is not apt."

"When the Seasons' changes thus confront the mind What comfort can the Doctrine of Tao give? It will teach me to watch the days and months fly Without grieving that Youth slips away; If the Fleeting World is but a long dream, It does not matter whether one is young or old."

"And I today ... by virtue of what right Have I never once tended field or tree? My government-pay is three hundred tons; At the year's end I have still grain in hand. Thinking of this, secretly I grew ashamed; And all day the thought lingered in my head."

"For ten years I never left my books; I went up ... and won unmerited praise. My high place I do not much prize; The joy of my parents will first make me proud."

"I lay my harp on the curved table, Sitting there idly, filled only with emotions. Why should I trouble to play? A breeze will come and sweep the strings."

"I set my eyes on the green mountain, and let my hair grow white. Who knows how many years I have left to live in this world? From now till the end of my life, there are only days of leisure."

"I am lucky not to have such bad habits. I only indulge myself in drinking wine and writing poetry. I am indeed indulgent, but what harm will that do?"

"言者不知知者默 此語吾聞於老君 若道老君是知者 缘何自著五千文"

"琴詩酒伴皆拋我   雪月花時最憶君"

"Cold Mountain Son Forever not change I live alone Beyond life death"

"Cold Mountain cold Ice freezes rock Mountains are green Snow is white Sun shines bright Every thing melt Every thing warm Warms old man"

"Tiers of mountains Cold wind feet Not need fan Ice cold through Moon shines bright Mist covers everything Sit all alone One old man"

"When people look for the road in the clouds The cloud road disappears The mountains are tall and steep The streams are wide and still Green mountains ahead and behind White clouds to east and west If you want to find the cloud road Seek it within"

"People ask the way to Cold Mountain Roads do not go through Summer arrives yet the ice has not melted Though the sun is out it's foggy and dim How did I arrive here? My mind and yours are not the same When our minds are one You will be here too"

"Since I retired to Cold Mountain I've lived by eating mountain fruits What is there to worry about? Life passes according to karma The months pass like a flowing stream Days and nights like sparks from flint Heaven and earth endlessly change While I sit happily among these cliffs"

"Climb the steep Cold Mountain way Roads to Cold Mountain are many and never ending The valleys are long and deep, the peaks piled high The streams are wide, the grass is thick The moss is slippery though there is no rain The pines sigh though there is no wind Who can escape the snares of the world And come to sit with me among the white clouds?"

"How wonderful is Cold Mountain Climbers are all afraid The moon shines on clear water twinkle twinkle Wind rustles the tall grass Plum trees flower in the snow Bare twisted trees have clouds for foliage A touch of rain brings it all alive Unless you see clearly do not approach"

"Tier on tier of beautiful mountains and streams Blue green vistas locked in white clouds The mist makes my bandana wet Dew coats my grass cape My feet climb in straw sandals My hand holds an old wooden stick When I gaze down again on the dusty world It has become a land of phantoms and dreams to me"

"I love the joy of mountains Wandering free with no concerns Every day I find food for this old body There's leisure for thinking, nothing to do Often I carry an ancient book Sometimes I climb a rock pavilion To look down a thousand foot precipice Overhead are swirling clouds A cold moon chilly cold My body feels like a flying crane"

"I'm happy in the every day Way Among the mist and vines and caves The wilderness is boundless My companions are lazy white clouds There are roads but they do not reach the world My mind has come to rest and nothing can stir my thought On a bed of rock I sit alone in the night While a round moon climbs up Cold Mountain"

"When you live on Cold Mountain long enough the autumns pass quickly When you live alone you have no worries When you leave the doors open no one bothers you The bubbling stream runs forever In the cave a clay pot boils over a fire on the ground A wandering breeze stirs the fragrant pines When hungry I eat one simple meal And lean against the rock in complete harmony"

"Today I sat before the cliff Until the mist and rainbows disappeared I followed the emerald stream Explored a thousand tiers of green cliffs In the morning my spirit rests among white clouds At night a bright moon floats in the sky I am free of the busy world There is not a doubt in my heart or a worry to disturb my mind"

"I settled at Cold Mountain long ago Already it seems like ages Wandering free I roam the woods and streams Lingering to watch things be themselves Men don't come this far into the mountains Where white clouds gather and billow Dry grass makes a comfortable mattress The blue sky is a fine quilt Happy to pillow my head on the rock I leave heaven and earth to endless change"

"Cold Mountain is hidden in white clouds It's peaceful to be cut off from the busy world I use dry grass for cushions in my mountain home My only light is the round moon My bed is the rock beside the green pool Tigers and deer are my companions I delight in this happy peaceful life Forever beyond the world of men"

"I dreamed a place where I have come to dwell Cold Mountain says it all Monkeys scream, the valley fog is cold My door blends with the color of the peaks I gather leaves and thatch a hut among the pines Dig a pond and lead a trickle from the brook Long ago I left the world behind Eating ferns I pass the years in peace"

"Among a thousand clouds and ten thousand streams Here lives an idle man In the daytime wandering over green mountains At night coming home to sleep by the cliff Swiftly springs and autumns pass But my mind is at peace, clear and free By now I need nothing to lean on To be still as the waters of the autumn river"

"There is a Precious Mountain Even the Seven Treasures cannot compare A cold moon rises through the pines Layer upon layer of bright clouds How many towering peaks? How many wandering miles? The valley streams run clear Happiness forever!"

"Once, my back wedded to the solid cliff, I sat silently, bathed in the full moon's light. I counted there ten thousand shapes, None with substance save the moon's own glow. The pristine mind is empty as the moon, I thought, and like the moon, freely shines. By what I knew of moon I knew the mind, Each mirror to each, profound as stone."

"All the people in the Kuo-ch'ing monastery— They say, "Han-shan is an idiot." "Am I really an idiot:" I reflect. But my reflections fail to solve the question: for I myself do not know who the self is, And how can others know who I am?"

"Worry for others— it does no good in the end. The great Dao, all amid joy, is reborn. In a joyous state, ruler and subject accord, In a joyous home, father and son get along. If brothers increase their joy, the world will flourish. If husband and wife have joy, it's worthy of song. What guest and host can bear a lack of joy? Both high and low, in joy, lose their woe before long. Ha ha ha."

"Do you have the poems of Han-shan in your house? They're better for you than sutra reading! Write them out and paste them on a screen Where you can glance over them from time to time"

"If you're looking for a place to rest Cold Mountain is good for a long stay The breeze blowing through the dark pines Sounds better the closer you come And under the trees a white haired man Mumbles over his Taoist texts Ten years now he hasn't gone home He's even forgotten the road he came by"

"I brewed potions in a vain search for life everlasting, I read books, I sang songs of history, And today I've come home to Cold Mountain To pillow my head on the stream and wash my ears."

"People ask the way to Cold Mountain. Cold Mountain? There is no road that goes through. Even in summer the ice doesn't melt; Though the sun comes out, the fog is blinding. How can you hope to get there by aping me? Your heart and mine are not alike. If your heart were the same as mine, Then you could journey to the very center!"

"Story on Story of wonderful hills and streams Their blue-green haze locked in clouds! Mists brush my thin cap with moisture Dew wets my coat of plaited straw On my feet I wear pilgrim's sandals My hand holds a stick of old rattan Though I look down again on the dusty world What is that land of dreams to me?"

"As for me, I delight in the every day Way Among mist-wrapped vines and rocky caves Here in the wilderness I am completely free With my friends, the white clouds, idling forever There are roads, but they do not reach the world Since I am mindless, who can rouse my thoughts On a bed of stone I sit, alone in the night While a round moon climbs up Cold Mountain"

"I divined and chose a distant place to dwell T'ien T'ai: what more is there to say? Monkeys cry where valley mists are cold My grass gate blends with the color of the crags I pick leaves to thatch a hut among the pines Scoop out a pond and lead a runnel from the spring By now I am used to doing without the world Picking ferns I pass the years that are left"

"If your house has Cold Mountain poems They are better for you than sutras Hang them up where you can see them Read them and read them again"

"Do I have a body? Or have I none? Am I who I am? Or am I not? Pondering these questions, I sit Leaning against the cliff while the years go by And the green grass grows up between my feet And the red dust settles on my head Then men of the world come and thinking me dead Bring offerings of wine and fruit"

"Old and sick, more than one hundred years Face haggard, hair white, I'm happy to still live in the mountains A cloth covered phantom watching the years flow by Why envy people with clever ways of living?"