
heart of the buddha
No need to chase back and forth
like the waves.
The same water which ebbs is the same water that flows.
No point turning back to get
water
When it's flowing around you in all directions
The heart of the Buddha and
the people of the world...
Where is there any difference?
the
barking dog
We went up across the ridge for
the fun of it.
Didn't need to pack any more wine.
On the precipice, flowers opened,
smiling.
By the river, willows grew bright.
In the drizzling rain the village
smoke congealed, concealed.
The wind was slight and the grass was cool.
There in the woods'
underbrush, startled,
We suddenly heard a dog bark.
It wanted us to know the Master was aware.
going
beyond desire
Striving to leave the wilderness
You become part of what's wild.
Striving to cease grasping
Is, itself, grasping.
So how do you gain control
and get beyond desire?
Open those eyes... the ones that were born in your own skull.
an
exquisite truth
This is an exquisite truth:
Saints and ordinary folks are the same from the start.
Inquiring about a difference
Is like asking to borrow string
when you've got a good strong rope.
Every Dharma is known in the
heart.
After a rain, the mountain colors intensify.
Once you become familiar
with the design of fate's illusions
Your ink-well will contain all of life and death.
searching
for the dharma
You've traveled up ten thousand
steps in search of the Dharma.
So many long days in the archives, copying, copying.
The gravity of the Tang and the
profundity of the Sung
make heavy baggage.
Here! I've picked you a
bunch of wildflowers.
Their meaning is the same
but they're much easier to carry.
bitter
rain
Bitter rain soaks the pile of
kindling twigs.
The night so cold and still the lamp flame hardly moves.
Clouds condense and drench our stone walled hut.
Broken rushes clog the reed gate's way.
The stream gurgles, a
torrent in its bed.
That's all we hear. Only rarely, comes a human voice...
But oh, how priceless is this peace of mind that fills us
As we sit on our heels and put on another Chan monk's robe!
English translation of
the poetry
of Grand Master, Xu Yun, founder of the Zen Buddhist Order of Hsu Yun.
|