Returning to Mount Gu Meeting with Master Gu Yue (Master Ancient Moon) For thirty years I've traveled. At last I return to this village. As cold smoke encases fine mist Suddenly things are strange and dreamlike.
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An Autumn Night Sitting with Fine Friends High in a Tall Building (the Cen Mansion). To look at the colors this time of year is good. We open the window and peak at the new crescent moon The bunch of us linger, undisturbed, singing for our supper. It's cold and we're all in threadbare robes; |
Strong Feelings Remembering the Way It Was When I First Started Out For more than sixty years I've moved forward with my work. The sword of my mind won't leave desires standing. Life is a bitter ocean, |
In Response to Layman MA Guanyuan for a Special Verse I don't carry a gentleman's lute I'm as undistinguished as smoke Scattered and low. Sometimes I roam along Bilu Peak Who needs seven hundred lifetimes? You can measure what's empty or catch hold of the wind; You can move an entire mountain or shrink a great distance; In the space of just a single thought But the distance light travels in those thousand years I could have been a deckhand What if I had been born noble and wealthy? So I don't carry a gentleman's lute I just go, scattered and low, scattered and low. |
For Mr. HE Jingtian, a Layman of Great Compassion Once, he competed for reputation, Yet, in a nap, no longer than it takes to cook millet, This hero who solved the riddle of the world! It's so hard for the Buddha to save us! The Buddha's words will shine like the white moon, Think about the chances! Born as human beings! I've learned the teachings of the Dharma I know that what seems to exist came out of nowhere. |
For Mr. Hua Yenjing at Fenglin Temple: An Admonishment Against Feeling Upset Over A Monk's Broken Porcelain Bowl I've got a piece of porcelain. When I show it, its brightness fills all space. My porcelain can't be burned by raging fire. My porcelain is the Dragon Maiden's Pearl Inside my porcelain bowl there's dazzling light There are too many details to explain. |
Years Months Days Hours One year and then another. This time-limited body is like a mound of slurry. One month and then another.
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For Madame Reverend Qing: (Declining her request that he return home for the funerals of his wife and his mother.) I've been fifty years a monk. Everything changes. People come and go. If we let them, griefs would pile up in our hearts. Half a century the affairs of life continued. Don't make distinctions - what's mine or yours.
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Mixed Miscellaneous Song What good is talking about the future or the past? Where can you go that you can't see the moon? Carry a lute. Make up your own songs. Unburden yourself. Empty your hands of impediments.
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Response to a poem by Liao Zhao of Mount Wei We wander through Illusion, the World of Defilements. Then, suddenly, a bath is prepared for us!
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