A Study of Yu Hsi’s Prasrabdhi

Zhang Guohua*

Abstract

Based at the Vandana Monastery in Hualian, Yu Hsi specializes in the study of the Buddhist scriptures and the production of related art and literature. Over the course of several decades, he has produced an astounding amount of high-quality poetry, lyrics, novels, plays, picture books, and music. In 2003 he commenced work on a series consisting of 111 books of poetry handwritten on long scrolls, now collected and printed in the collection titled Prasrabdhi. Taking Buddhist doctrine as his underlying perspective, he depicts spiritual practice in terms of a search for the ideal homeland of consummate comfort and beauty. Based on the premise that everyone is endowed with inherent spiritual awareness, his writings are intended to help the reader to cultivate wisdom and attain freedom from mental afflictions. By skillfully combining poetry and graphics into a visual banquet, Yu Hsi draws upon the profound teachings of Chinese religion and philosophy to reveal the true appearance of life and to point the way back to our true spiritual home.


Keywords: Yu Hsi; long-scroll poetry; native place
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*Ph.D., Chinese Department, National Kaohsiung Normal University; formerly assistant professor at National Kaohsiung Normal University and Shijian University; currently full-time instructor at Fengxin Senior High School; works include Appreciating Modern Poetry and Studies in the Qing Dynasty Zhouyi cantong qi.


I. Introduction
Several years ago I had the good fortune of witnessing Yu Hsi working on one of his scrolls. I was amazed at how quickly and effortlessly he managed to write out nearly 200 lines of poetry. I was also struck by how much his style has in common with the poetry of Chou Meng-tieh, at the same time imparting an entirely different sense. Perplexed, I was reminded of the lines in the Confucian Analects: “I see it in front, and suddenly it is behind me. . . I have exhausted my ability, yet it seems as if ‘nothing’ is rising up in front of me.” In 2014, through the good graces of Lin Wenqin, Yu Hsi sent me a complete set of Prasrabdhi; some time later I had a chance to see the entire collection of manuscripts from which it was produced, making it possible to make a further comparison of these two poets. As a result, I discovered that while both have a highly refined aesthetic sensitivity, what differentiates Yu Hsi is that all his work—poetry, novels, music, picture books, plays, etc.—is informed by his Buddhist background, such that whatever subject matter he describes—the countryside, the mountains, towns, the human mind—it’s all a way of using art and beauty to lead the reader into a deeper experience of the teachings of the Buddha. By contrast, Chou at times adopts Buddhist themes, and at other times adopts Daoist ones. In addition, being reclusive by nature, Chou’s poetry has a distinctively ascetic flavor. This intriguing contrast was the primary impetus for making an in-depth study of Yu Hsi’s Prasrabdhi.

Starting with Book 1, I quickly became engrossed with the various adventures of the Wanderer, the Traveler, the Visitor, and the Vagrant, as they make their way throughout the eleven directions of the trichiliocosm—east, south, west, north, center, zenith, southwest, northwest, nadir, northeast, and southeast. By the time I had read up to around Book 30 (the third volume) I suddenly noticed certain similarities with Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. Take, for instance, the poem titled “The Road”:

Late at night, the Traveler looks everywhere for lodging, all in vain
Moonlight obliquely enters thru the window, sound of a crying baby
exacerbates that ancient melancholy of homesickness
Elegant intonation of a bell, arriving from the distant dusky
Wave-listening temple it’s
A riddle given to the Traveler by heaven
to see how he goes about finding himself─[1]

The spiritual journeys of Siddhartha and the Traveler have much in common. What sets the Traveler apart is that all the people, places, and situations he finds himself in are based on the personal experience of the poet, who acts as a kind of mirror tilting the reader’s perspective in various directions to reveal a constantly shifting panorama of the Traveler’s inner quest. By contrast, Siddhartha is an adaptation of the story of the Buddha prior to attaining full liberation, and Hesse is merely a disinterested reporter of the protagonist’s experience. This difference has an influence of the level at which the reader can enter into the story.

As interesting as it might be to undertake a comparative study of these two works of great literary and spiritual import, such an undertaking will have to be left for another day, since the purpose of the present paper is to make a broad and in-depth study of Prasrabdhi.

II. Author, works, and style
A. Author
Yu Hsi was born in 1951 as Hong Qingyou in Zhanghua County’s Fangyuan Township, and has been awarded honorary doctorates from the Mongolian University of Art and Culture and the World Academy of Art and Culture. Based at the Vandana Monastery in Hualian, Yu Hsi specializes in the study of the Buddhist scriptures and the production of related art and literature. Over the course of several decades, he has produced an astounding amount of high-quality poetry, lyrics, novels, plays, picture books, and music. Amongst the many awards he has received as of 2016 are the Golden Tripod Award, the Golden Medley Award, the Indian Golden Medal Award, the Slovakian Silver Medal Award, and the Jan Smrek Prize. In 2013 he ordained as a Buddhist monk and took the Dharma name Daoyi.

Similar to Hong Yi, the celebrated artist at the beginning of the Republican era, Yu Hsi joined the Sangha at the height of his career. But whereas Hong Yi’s ordination necessitated giving up his marriage and job, and came as something of a shock to his friends and followers, Yu Hsi’s transition to the life of a Buddhist monastic was more of a natural extension of his many years of work in the field of Buddhist art and literature. Yet each in his own way has succeeded in making a major contribution to the propagation of the Dharma.

As president of the Republic of China New Verse Association and the Chinese Writers and Artists Association, in 2003, 2010, and 2015, Yu Hsi organized poetry events in Taiwan which attracted poets from around the world. Each event showcased Buddhist art and literature, and helped to expand Taiwan’s cultural exchanges and enhance its international profile. Way back in 1978, as a way of offering a breath of fresh air to people all over the planet, he established the Poem Cultural Corporation and the New Source Person journal, both of which continue to produce Buddhist cultural materials in a wide variety of formats. In “Yu Hsi answers 15 questions posed by the poet Xin Yu” Yu Hsi poetically explains his approach by stating:

Bringing a spiritually refreshing message to the great trichiliocosm,
This is the primary purpose of the Poem Culture Corporation. . . .
Poem promotes traditional Eastern art and culture,
Including literature, the visual arts, music, and films.
In addition to publishing the literary journal New Source Person
We also hold book fairs, art exhibitions, multimedia arts events,
Concerts, and plays, all as a way of promoting the fine arts, . . .
We hope to make a lasting impression
On the long road of human culture.[2]

From statements like these we catch a glimpse of Yu Hsi’s extensive wisdom and artistic sense. He presently serves as the Chairman of the Crane Summit 21st Century International Forum and the abbot of Vandana Monastery.

B. Works
Most of Yu Hsi’s writing is done in the peaceful and roomy Hall of Fragrant Recitation next to the Wind Pavilion at Vandana Monastery. In the poem “Worry of Passion. Pure Song of Bodhi in Childhood,” he writes,

Once an octagonal pavilion
Now known as the Wind Pavilion
Two excellent Indian almond trees
A long-standing ballnut tree
Three irregular king coconut trees
A practical mulberry tree[3]

Such ordinary architecture and scenery exudes the flavor of Chan. In addition to the Wind Pavilion, Yu Hsi has also conducted his literary activities in a wide variety of locations, including Wanggong on the Zhanghua coast, Lake Akan on the Japanese Island of Hokkaido, and on the slopes of Jungfrau in the Swiss Alps. Being so well travelled and deeply versed in the Chinese scriptures and classics, Yu Hsi has thus far already produced over 50 major works of consummate quality, the lyrical and stage adaptations of which have won numerous accolades. For instance, on the website of the National Museum of Taiwan Literature we read:

Mainly writing in the genres of poetry and fiction, Yu Hsi typically presents his ideas in the form of parables and fables. With his lyrical style, he abundantly conveys the profundity of Eastern thought and spirituality, as well as the delight and joy of life, all as a way of leading his readers back to the purity at the heart of the human spirit.[4]

This “delight and joy of life” is the common thread which runs through all of Yu Hsi’s, novels, poetry, and plays. By presenting profound Buddhist doctrines in the guise of “parables and fables,” he leads the reader along the road leading to eternal truth and happiness. This approach is especially apparent in such works as The Purple-gold Robe, Prabhutaratna, Amrta, Dhavja, Seven Nights Waiting, and Dew Coursing in Heaven.[5] Prabhutaratna, which received the Golden Tripod Award the year after its release, describes the search for the peak condition of life while conveying the idea that “truth and beauty coinhere.” In his novel Unclassified, consisting of 128 chapters and some 60,000 characters, he depicts in poetic fashion the search for the proverbial “native place.” With Buddhist thought and culture as his main theme, and Confucian and Daoist thought as secondary themes, Yu Hsi “abundantly conveys the profundity of Eastern thought and spirituality,” as readily seen in such short poetry collections as The Collected Poems of Yu Hsi, The Joy of Affection, One Color Less, and Kala. According to Xu Weiqiang of National Kaohsiung Normal University, the four distinguishing features that lend a sense of poetic liveliness to Yu Hsi’s shorter works are the application of the “real-unreal method,” play on form, abundant reference to Buddhist scriptures, and a novelistic style.[6] Of course, these same features are also found in Yu Hsi’s longer works, where they are used to further elaborate a variety of themes. This is especially the case with Prasrabdhi, the focus of the present study.

In 2003 Yu Hsi adopted a new approach by writing out his poetry on long scrolls. The resulting collection of 111 books has been transcribed and printed in 11 volumes, each with its own title: Verses of the East, Verses of the South, Verses of the West, Verses of the North, Verses of the Center, Verses of the Zenith, Verses of the Southwest, Verses of the Northwest, Verses of the Nadir, Verses of the Northeast, and Verses of the Southeast. Each book was handwritten on a paper scroll, images of which are appended to each volume. Each scroll is attached to a roller, similar to those used for Chinese landscape paintings.

C. Style
Taking Buddhist doctrine as his underlying perspective, in Prasrabdhi Yu Hsi depicts spiritual practice in terms of a search for the ideal homeland of consummate comfort and beauty, alternately referred to as “the native place of the spirit” and “the spacious world of virtue and purity.” In this connection, in the preface to Verses of the Zenith (Volume 6) he states, “Poetry is at the heart of the human spirit . . . The poet is the world’s most noble and august person. . . . The ‘new source person’ is the true self, native to the spacious world of virtue and purity.”[7] Thus we can see that for Yu Hsi the mission of the poet is to create a pure space for the true self, the human spirit, what he calls “the spacious world of virtue and purity.” This same sentiment is expressed in the poem which follows the Preface:

Praying for all the heralds of poetry in the world
To use the sound of sincere affection to pacify
The agitated heartstrings of the universe to put to eternal rest
All the weapons of war armored horses put out to pasture
Mutual fraternal love peace and reconciliation

If Yu Hsi’s breadth of mind only went thus far, he would merely be a religious poet, without any particular message of wisdom to convey. However, his view of poetry is deeply informed by the ideas of “the native place of the spirit” and “the spacious world of virtue and purity.”

Just what is the appearance of this “native place of the spirit”? The purpose here is to restore the original flavor of life, to recover the essence at the heart of the human spirit. Since this native place is our common inheritance, Yu Hsi depicts it through the use of unadorned natural scenery, creating a sense of yearning in the reader, similar to Tao Yuanming’s descriptions of Arcadia in his celebrated story “Record of Peach Blossom Spring” (Taohuayuan ji). By the same token, inasmuch as we have been led astray by our own erroneous perceptions and thus strayed away from this “native place of the spirit,” our common mission is to find our way back to our true home, a journey metaphorically depicted by Yu Hsi in the endless ramblings of such characters as the Vagrant, the Wanderer, and the Traveler. In this connection he states, “Human beings—be they past, present, or future—always harbor an innate yearning for their native place, the ideal state of ultimate beauty which is to be attained by the cultivation of wisdom.”[8] This wisdom arises through inner contemplation, as described in the opening passage of the Wisdom Chapter of the Platform Sutra:

Bodhi, the wisdom of prajna, is inherent in all people of this world. It is only because your minds are deluded that you fail to realize it yourselves. Therefore, you need the guidance of a great master to see your true nature. Know that the buddha-nature is no different in the wise and in the ignorant. What separates them is whether one is enlightened or deluded.

In Master Weijue’s commentary on this passage, he states:

Bodhi refers to our inherent nature of awakening. The “wisdom of prajna” refers to the wisdom arising from contemplation, by which the defilements are cut off and purification of mind is attained. And what is this wisdom? It doesn’t come from reading lots of books, or understanding lots of doctrines, or having lots of skills; these things are merely forms of knowledge. The wisdom of prajna refers to the pure wisdom which arises from contemplation of your own mind; it’s directly knowing that there is nothing to be attained, whereby the mind remains settled in clear comprehension and the nature of awakening. This is the wisdom of prajna; everyone has it as a natural endowment.[9]

Thus is can be seen that contemplative meditation is used to eliminate false notions and confusion about the nature of reality, the goal of which can be said to be the establishment of an ideal homeland, the creation of a beautiful world.

Nonetheless, this wisdom is not something which can be directly presented in the form of a sermon, since any attempt to use a mechanical approach to convey the subtlety of “the spacious world of virtue and purity” is doomed to miss the mark. In his interview with Yu Hsi, the poet Xin Yu asks, “Most religious poetry urges moral uprightness or transmits an orthodox message. By contrast, your poetry is all about beauty; it conveys a distinctive kind of mystical and profound feeling. How do you go about creating this kind of feeling?” In response, rejecting the ideas of “art for art’s sake” and “art as a way of life,” Yu Hsi states:

I enjoy reclining against that huge mysterious tree in the subconscious,
Making a rubbing of those profound memories imprinted on the soul;
Whatever is seen, felt, or spoken
All naturally seeps out of the butterfly wings in a dream.
You could say my style is to have no style; it’s doing by not doing;
It’s using pure feeling to convey the pure spirit of poetry;
It’s using the playful mind of childhood to exercise the creative imagination;
It’s using love and compassion to explore the grandeur of life.[10]

When he states “I enjoy reclining against that huge mysterious tree in the subconscious, / Making a rubbing of those profound memories imprinted on the soul,” he touches upon the mysterious topics of the individual subconscious mind, as well as the collective unconscious, the ancient repository of the primordial archetypes he refers to as “rubbings.” The “butterfly wings in a dream” refers to a type of spiritual ambience. When he says, “It’s using the playful mind of childhood to exercise the creative imagination,” he wishes to point out that he is not merely presenting a sermon, for the childlike mind is a state of purity of vision. His “doing by not doing” refers to the way in which the sage adopts a style of communication which imitates the workings of nature, by which he preaches without preaching! Thus having “no style” and “doing by not doing,” Yu Hsi succeeds in depicting the inherent beauty of the world and establishing in the reader a yearning for the ideal homeland. This is what makes his poetry so compelling.

III. Content analysis
The only previous study on Prasrabdhi is the article by Lin Wenqin titled “The Life of Poetry and the Subtle World” published in New Source Person. In addition, in his forthcoming 300-page book A Dialogue between Poetry and Philosophy, Professor Ye Haiyan of National Chenggong University’s Department of Taiwanese Literature makes an in-depth and insightful study of Prasrabdhi, focusing on such topics as reason and emotion, the ultimate concern of sentient beings, the loss of the childlike mind, and spiritual luminosity. In light of the huge volume of material contained in Prasrabdhi’s 11 volumes, in the present study I focus on how Yu Hsi employs the medium of modern poetry to present Buddhist themes. The original manuscript of Prasrabdhi was written on scrolls using a freeform approach full of curving lines of text and graphic embellishments, most of which are lacking in the printed version. Moreover, in preparing the manuscript for publication, it was necessary to add line breaks, as well as some punctuation. As in his other works, in Prasrabdhi Yu Hsi presents profound Buddhist doctrines in easily understood language. For a storyline, he uses various characters to depict the long journey back to the spiritual homeland, but not merely through descriptions of a simple bucolic life, nor by crudely grafting abstruse Buddhist doctrines onto his poetry. I now consider how he goes about doing this.

A. Using easily understood language to present profound Buddhist ideas

Yu Hsi has spent many years at Vandana Monastery studying the Buddhist scriptures and practicing Chan Buddhism. In poetic fashion he has described the goal of Buddhist practice as follows:

It’s basically a Chan monastery
In the tradition of Master Guangqin;
In addition, based on the example and teachings of the founder, Master Chuanqing,
Various forms of art are used to propagate the Buddhadharma.
Master Chuanqing’s founding vision
Was to make Vandana Monastery
Into place for spiritual practice and propagating the Dharma.[11]

Thus we see the emphasis Yu Hsi places on art as a means of propagating the Dharma and making profound Buddhist doctrines more accessible to a wide range of readers. Inasmuch as Wang Wei was referred to as a “Buddhist poet,” we might refer to Yu Hsi as a “Buddhist artist.” Yet, how could the Buddha-dharma, so vast and abstruse, be covered in a mere 111 books? Yu Hsi’s solution to this problem is to present complicated doctrines in a manner which is readily comprehendible to a wide range of readers, at times directly, at times as metaphors, and at other times in the form of a story. The main Buddhist doctrines he covers are as follows.

1. Returning to our inherent nature of thusness
In Prasrabdhi we find a diverse array of material, yet it all serves to manifest the mind of awakening, the universal state of thusness, the essence of who and what we really are. This principle is explicated through various descriptions of nature, and the realization of it can be seen in the multifarious confusion-fueled misadventures of such characters as the Wanderer, the Visitor, and the Scion Drifter. Yet, whatever they encounter, be it true or false, real or unreal, it’s all a manifestation of the Dharma realm, as expressed in the “Wondrous Adornments of the Lord of the World” chapter of the Flower Adornment Sutra as “the entire Dharma realm is contained in a single thought.” Despite some differences between Chan and the other schools of Buddhism, Yu Hsi’s work draws on a wide range of Mahayana Buddhist thought.

It is by virtue of the boundless miraculous powers of the Buddha that “the entire Dharma realm is contained in a single thought.” One of the central Buddhist principles found throughout Prasrabdhi is that everyone is already endowed with the nature of thusness, so there is no use in seeking it in the external world. However, subscribing to the idea of the omnipotence and omnipresence of the Buddha, the average Buddhist merely burns incense in hopes that the Buddha will respond by eliminating existing problems and preventing new ones from arising, oblivious to the fact that none of this is necessary, since one’s own mind is none other than the buddha-mind, one’s essential nature is the buddha-nature. That’s why it’s said that “the entire Dharma realm is contained in a single thought.” Thus engaging in unnecessary speculation is merely inviting vexation. Throughout Prasrabdhi Yu Hsi exhorts the reader to return to the original mind of thusness, to use the original mind to transcend complexity and perplexity. Thus in the poem “Time Palace of the Tripartite House of Childhood” he writes:

availing the power of bodhicitta, the Youth commands the celestial sailors of samatha
clearing away multiple complex ice floes of the defilements along the way
There may be material form with self, other, hate, love
These are the karma-producing bonds common to all species
There may be immaterial form with mind settled in samadhi
This is for listening to the silent bursts of empty thunder[12]

The “the karma-producing bonds common to all species” are the shackles which bind together everything in the world of form. Everything is a manifestation of the buddha, including what may seem totally irrelevant. Our challenge is to maintain awareness so that we don’t get caught up in things and lose sight of the true nature of reality, for it is this basic ignorance which keeps us bound to the wheel of endless transmigration. The “silent bursts of empty thunder” are an alarm bell exhorting us to leave behind the mind of worry and complexity, and to return to the purity of thusness. Inasmuch as we are already endowed with this thusness, there is nothing we need to seek outside ourselves; all we really need to do is turn inwards and see through the obstacles obscuring our true nature. This requires concentration and diligence in all situations, as pointed out in the following stanza:

Who is it who can use a negative number to remove
a vast square root √
Then use subtraction
To subtract until there’s almost nothing left, then
discovering traces of antimatter
Miraculous transformation of everything in the universe
Hidden in the breath of the earth’s four season’s
Whoever has that pair of bare feet
Can catch the sound of truth, not empty.[13]

In his interview with Xin Yu, Yu Hsi explains “almost nothing left” as referring to a liminal realm:

The maiden Ajiase dwells in a liminal realm in between the material and spiritual. The search for truth belongs to the world of reason; “perception” refers to the world of sentient beings; yet reason and emotion are not in opposition to one another. . . . How, then, can matter and spirit be brought into a harmonious union? This is the question she continually seeks to answer by investigating the relationship between form and emptiness, dream and waking, reality and fiction. Thus she continually resides in the liminal world of flowing light and shadow, searching for the profound and real appearance of life and the universe. (Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 8, p. .)

In short, this liminal realm is the place where reason and emotion intersect, entering into which amounts to entering into the realm of thusness. By “Who is it who can use a negative number to remove / a vast square root √” he uses the mathematical concept of an irrational number to express the absurdity of life. It’s also a way of exhorting the reader to do away with excessive busyness and to remove the vain desire for fame and fortune, and instead to place one’s feet firmly on the ground, since doing so affords a glimpse of reality. This is something Yu Hsi has learned from his own experience over many years of keenly observing the natural world.

2. Cultivating wisdom and eliminating defilements
Most people spend their entire lives blindly and busily chasing after longevity and various sorts of worldly gain, without really gaining any self-knowledge, such that self-restraint is smugly seen as an impediment to success! Thus the average person remains oblivious to his own nature and the true purpose of life, blindly scrambling after material gains, which in fact are an obstacle to real happiness. Thus in Prasrabdhi Yu Hsi continually exhorts the reader to return to his own essential nature, which can only be done by cultivating wisdom and eliminating defilements. For it is through the cultivation of spiritual wisdom that we come to see through all the beguiling conditions of the world; and by cutting off the defilements of the mind we come to recognize our essential nature, the empty and interdependent nature of all phenomena. This is the wisdom that leads to the overcoming of attachment to wealth and power.

In this collection Yu Hsi depicts the mysterious factors of the universe which engender wisdom and bliss, highlighting the miraculous nature of life lived in attunement with immanent beauty and sacredness. By generating a slight sense of homesickness, he leads the reader to the blue sea of the universe, back to the eternally fragrant and pure secret place at the center of the heart. In the poem “Song of the Sea” he states:

It’s the Eye of perfect enlightenment in the bodhisattva’s heart and mind
It’s turning our perspective completely around to 3.28767123 . . .
So that we catch a glimpse of the true nature of the world of perplexing appearances.[14]

According to Lin Wenqin:

When Yu Hsi writes “Observe the true appearance of the world, that mysterious riddle filling the secret treasury,” he is pointing to the inherent buddha-mind, as well as the path of awakening by which the shackles of greed, hatred, and delusion are undone. But just what is this awakening? How do we “reverse the flow”? In this connection, the poet writes, “This letter-game consisting of several mysterious symbols is something you can contemplate for a long, long time”! If this is the case for the sage endowed with wisdom and compassion, how difficult it must be for the ordinary person of today, mired as he is in the dreamlike world of desire, to see through false appearances, to the point where he directly and intuitively knows that “All conditioned phenomena are like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow; like dew, like lightning.”[15]

Yet this transcendence of the world is not to be found apart from the here and now; it can only be realized by being fully aware in the present moment. It comes about when the ordinary mind is transformed into the mind of wisdom free of defilements. In this connection Master Xuanhua explains:

What is this “mirror-like wisdom?” It’s one of the four types of wisdom the Buddha speaks about. This mirror-like wisdom is a function of the store consciousness, whereby the ordinary mind of delusion is transformed into the mind of wisdom. For the average person, it’s just the ordinary mind; but by returning to the source, this ordinary mind transforms into the mind of mirror-like wisdom. Its essential nature is perfect purity.[16]

In other words, transforming the ordinary mind into the mind of wisdom entails upgrading the quality of the mind such that it becomes poised for awakening. Commenting on the passage in the Platform Sutra that reads, “The Buddha-dharma exists in the world; enlightenment is not apart from this world. To seek bodhi apart from the world is as futile as looking for rabbit horns,” Master Xingyun points out that:

Pursing a kind of bodhi which is apart from this world, seeking a kind of liberation which is divorced from all sentient beings—this is like looking for rabbit horns. The Buddhadharma is eminently practical; it’s neither nihilism, nor the desultory pursuit of some kind of pipe dream.[17]

This is the primary motivation for Yu Hsi’s use of art to promote and disseminate a kind of Buddhism which has relevance to the modern world, rather than a teaching which advocates disengaging from the world. The upshot is that if the spiritual aspirant remains completely aloof from the world and the suffering of sentient beings, then his efforts to cultivate emptiness and attain buddhahood will invariably fall short of the mark. Yet we are still faced with the mighty challenge of cultivating wisdom and purifying the mind while living in the world. With this in mind, in the poem “Traveler in the val d’Anniviers” Yu Hsi describes the cultivation of wisdom as follows:

A huge scripture in the realm of latent dust
hibernating in a faint place
Larvae continually chewing leaves
bite after bite … thought after thought …
Meditation is for transformation; the hero’s great power is for breaking out of the cocoon
Lighting ─ the seed-flame of wisdom
Then it’s possible to shed the heavy shell
trade it in for slim and graceful feathers[18]

Here Yu Hsi compares life to “a huge scripture in the realm of latent dust” and human beings to larvae “hibernating in a faint place.” Thus, if we are to break free of our karmic impediments and metamorphose into a colorful butterfly of buddhahood, it will be necessary to first light up the seed-lamp of wisdom. Otherwise, we are bound to continue muddling our way through life after life in the various realms of transmigration, a pitiable situation Yu Hsi describes in the poem “Southwest Supernatural Power, Originating in White Dew, 2001” as follows:

Dream in the sea of dreams, arranging, directing, performing
A single person with millions of roles in a whirlwind performance
Every character in the dream
a variation on the self!
Dark Glen
Frightening notion, dominating the den of ignorance
In the abyss
Layers of melancholy obstructing that numinous light
Bound up in anxieties
bringing bright ideas to a halt[19]

Thus this provisional body composed of the four elements chases after shadows and illusions in an imaginary drama we ourselves compose, direct, and perform, resulting in the fear, dejection, vexation, and anxiety which impedes wisdom and obscures our innate spiritual luminosity. Furthermore, in the poem “Southwest Family, Originating in the Autumnal Equinox, 2001” Yu Hsi states, “Worldly sound of exaggerated chatter / Then there is tranquility and insight, inner listening hearing / the harmony of the tide accompanying the wind humming thru the pines on the banks of the Milky Way.” Here “tranquility and insight, inner listening” refers to the cultivation of wisdom by which the mind is purified, making it possible to hear “the harmony of the tide accompanying the wind humming thru the pines on the banks of the Milky Way.”[20]

Prasrabdhi consists of over 10,000 lines, so of course it touches on many more Buddhist doctrines than can be covered in a short article like the present one; for now, a more thorough treatment remains a desideratum.

B. The dialectic of search and return
The search for and return to an ideal place has always been an important theme of world literature, with destinations ranging from eternal childhood and unspoiled nature, to such fabled destinations as Eden, Arcadia, Shangri-la, and Xanadu. Amongst the many great works touching on this theme, Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha stands out as having been an inspiration for Prasrabdhi. In “Growing up and Discrimination: A Study of Siddhartha,” Chen Yixiu of National Chenggong University writes, “Discrimination is the central theme of Siddhartha’s spiritual quest. Having experienced the extremes of both asceticism and indulgence in sense pleasures, he is taught by the ferryman how to observe the river. As a result he comes to understand the mystery of time and the transitory self, culminating in the discovery of the eternal self.”[21] The Siddhartha of Hesse’s novel is modeled on Siddhartha Gautama, who later became known as Sakyamuni Buddha. As the crown prince of the small north Indian kingdom of Kapilavastu, Siddhartha Gautama was raised in the lap of luxury. Yet, the reflective Siddhartha found no true happiness in the opulent life of the palace, so at the age of 29 he left his wife and kingdom and set out on a long journey in search of liberation from suffering. Similarly, the various seekers in Prasrabdhi search for that “native place” characterized by purity and innocence, beyond the beguiling illusions of the world. In contrast to Siddhartha, Yu Hsi makes frequent use of the first person, and most of his characters are used in a metaphorical sense. Now we shall take a closer look at these two types of metaphors.

1. The metaphor of seeking and return
In Prasrabdhi Yu Hsi employs a wide range of characters—the Scion Drifter, the Traveler, the Visitor, the Stranger, the Child, the Youth, the Maiden, the Shepherd Boy, etc.—to represent the common man, helpless in the face of various tribulations, or else the wisdom of the pure mind that can be cultivated in such situations. The dramatic effect thus created readily lends itself to musical adaptations. Taking the Scion Drifter as an example, he is frequently used to represent the original mind obscured by perplexity. Thus in “Blue Diamond and Two Young Girls of Emerald” we read, “Who is smiling? The honored prince [the Scion Drifter] on the endlessly long river / Not finding that missing pearl . . .”[22] Similarly, in “The Power of a Single Wise Thought” we read “Dharma-eye scans over the sea of consciousness, ten powers of mindfulness / escorting the Scion Drifter back to his true home”[23] While in this passage the Scion Drifter might remind some readers of Siddhartha, Yu Hsi’s purpose here is mainly to describe the human homing instinct. Just as a prince living in exile is not really a prince, but has to return to his kingdom before he can exercise sovereignty, the deluded mind remains divorced from its true potential until the Dharma-eye leads it back to its true home. Thus the Traveler, the Wanderer, the Visitor, and the Stranger (each of whom could be said to be a manifestation of the Scion Drifter) can be seen as constituting a group primarily representing sentient beings on a continual search, while the Child, the Youth, the Maiden, and the Little Girl can be seen as representing the mind of purity and innocence, but perhaps only in appearance. As for the Shepherd Boy, he can be seen as representing wisdom, and thus stands out as playing a key role. Now we can make a more detailed analysis of these characters.

a. Characters representing drifting sentient beings: The Traveler, the Wanderer, the Visitor, the Vagrant, and the Stranger
Roughly speaking, one or two members of this group of characters appears in pretty much every book of Prasrabdhi, from the preface to Volume 1, right through to Book 111, always representing drifting sentient beings, as in the following passages:

Streetlights, the eyes of the earth;
Still on the road, the Traveler looks around and asks:
“Where shall we spend the night?”[24]

A wandering mind requires a non-reversing sailboat to get it back on course;
The Vagrant needs to be guided by an eternal lamp flame.[25]

Street lights still bright, solitary night at the intersection
The Visitor hastily looks about, unwittingly looking back[26]

The houses and doors of two strangers
are separated by only six windows;
if the six senses are perfectly penetrating
then all boundaries and limitations are swept away[27]

In the first three quotations above, the light or lamp represents the wisdom that the lost and indecisive character needs to use to get his bearings straight and find his way. By contrast, in the fourth quotation the perfectly penetrating six senses refers to the wisdom which overcomes separation. The basic idea expressed here is that even though sentient beings may be alienated from their essential true nature, they also have the potential for reuniting with it.

b. Characters representing innocence and true wisdom: The Child, the Youth, the Maiden, and the Shepherd Boy
In Prasrabdhi there appear quite a few children and youths. Most of these characters represent the pure mind free of corruptions, including the Youth, the Maiden, and the Little Girl. However, two particular characters are used to represent the practice of meditation and the cultivation of wisdom: the Child and the Shepherd Boy. To the average reader, all these youthful characters may seem to be without any distinguishing qualities or particular purpose, yet upon further analysis it becomes apparent that they all play an essential role in the journey back to the native place, as can be seen in the following extracts:

“Northeast Light Condition, Originating in Greater Snow, 2001”:
Below two ginkgo trees
A child pretends to use the shadows of branches to sweep the steps
The north wind blows the Traveler's hat down towards the sea
The Youth mounts his sailboard and quickly retrieves it
to the sound of innocent cheers[28]

“Non-abiding Basket Heart”
The little girl places the mind of non-abiding into a basket
and comes to the Baihua Pavilion to watch the sunrise
The Youth takes up the boundless mind
plays in a garden with bougainvillea and hoary stock in full bloom[29]

Such expressions as “innocent,” “the mind of non-abiding,” and “the boundless mind” help the reader to easily understand the principle being presented, yet they are still metaphors. Such images have a long literary history, and are commonly used in what might be called an “exoteric” style of discourse. However, the image of the Shepherd Boy is used in a unique way. Yu Hsi’s Shepherd Boy might be based on the Buddhist story about 500 monks who were reborn as shepherd boys, or it may have been inspired by Huang Tingjian’s poem “Shepherd Boy,” in which we read, “Riding his ox afar, passing in front of a village, the sound of his flute carried by the wind over the hillocks. So many flock to Changan, scheming for fame and fortune; intrigue galore, not a single gentleman amongst the lot.” Whatever his origins, the Shepherd Boy unmistakably represents wisdom, as demonstrated in the following stanzas:

“A Deer in the Low Grass”
The Shepherd Boy digs a well and scoops up the bright moon
into a bucket, taking it home to taste,
Invisible mystical inspiration, in the cradle of dreams
in dialogue with conscience[30]

“Hometown of the Rock”
Child lying prostrate on a big white ox;
Setting sun shining on his belly painted with a big flag.
All things draw on nature;
he who attains the highest state makes the mark.[31]

In what sense does the Shepherd Boy represent wisdom? Endowed with a perfectly harmonious countenance, he cheerily passes his time with complete authenticity. Moreover, he is often set off against the sun or moon, both of which signify returning to the source. In addition, moonlight is used to represent purity, as when in the Preface to “The Holeless Hammer” we read, “The Benevolent One rides the billowing waves back to the source, condenses the moonlight into a state of purity.” This idea is also expressed in the following passage from “Southwest Position, Originating in End of Heat, 2001”:

The Shepherd Boy skips over the daytime sun
jumps over the nighttime moon
follows the song of the grains of dust
Searching for a long-lost ancient Saha rhyme.[32]

Thus we can see some variation in the author’s manner of expression. In Daoist alchemy the sun and moon represent male and female deities as well as the progress towards perfection. And in Buddhism we find various figures associated with universal light, such as Mahavairocana, a manifestation of the truth-body (dharmakaya) or the self-nature body, as is Sakyamuni Buddha. Thus Yu Hsi uses the Shepherd Boy, as well as the sun and moon, to represent wisdom, and jumping over the sun and moon to indicate the cultivation of wisdom and the perception of truth.

2. The search for and return to the native place
Longing for the native place is a frequently recurring theme in Prasrabdhi. For instance:

13 billion years ago, a brilliant, fragrant banner of the native place
turned into a non-reversing sailing ship traversing the Milky Way for a hundred thousand years
(Vol. 4, p. )

The daylight of the native place is about to bloom
Dream of a distant place, remains
in the sky beyond the sky beyond the countless grains of sand in the Ganges
(Vol. 9, p. )

The Wanderer follows a dream to
The familiar pleasure garden
Lavender casts out a faint purple haze
(Vol. 9, p. )

Awakening in a moment
other power, a tailwind
takes you a thousand li in a single day
In the native place someone
Is now making tea, waiting for you
(Vol. 10, p. )

From the above extracts it can be seen that the actual existence of the native place is determined by the individual’s quality of mind, similar to Tao Yuanming’s Arcadia. So in an age when most people are inclined towards evil and given to desire, such that corruption and disorder prevails throughout society, then the native place is nothing but a pious fiction. In such circumstances, what is the point of extolling the native place? In this connection, Yu Hsi emphasizes the possibility of overcoming the human tendency for evil by cultivating wisdom, as well as wholesome “dominant conditions.” Thus we read:

On the way home ─
requiring dominant conditions as numerous as the sands in the Ganges
at all times and places relying on deep roots of virtue
building a firewall outside the forest of wisdom
in the garden of awakening raising up and maintaining original nature
letting the weeds of ignorance wither in the wilderness
so that the seeds of karma no longer spread.[33]

These dominant conditions, or contributory factors, include the two types of people we meet in life: those who exert a “positive” influence on us, and those who exert a “negative” influence on us. For Yu Hsi, both types can impel us towards the native place, depending on whether or not we apply wisdom to the situation. Thus, on the one hand, when faced with a difficult situation, we need to view it from the proper perspective, so that it doesn’t exert a negative influence on us. On the other hand, if we have enough wisdom to cut off all the afflicted mental states, then the native place is right next to us, such that everything we lay our eyes on is our true home. This is why descriptions of various landscapes appear throughout Prasrabdhi. It is also a way of indicating the immanent nature of the native place, as seen in the following extract:

The train back home, each car going backwards;
A reticent companion paces up and down, writing page after page on the Traveler’s face;
Yearning time flowing backwards;
tonight not knowing how to fall asleep.


Freezing spring water flows into the mountain valley;
On the small roads in the village the mail is still delivered by a postman in green.
In the distance the Ruisui Highway has already transformed into a realm of gold.[34]

Here, the “realm of gold” refers to both dusk and eternity, and for those with sufficient purity of mind, the Ruisui Highway leads back to the native place! This exhortation to return to one’s true home by turning inwards can be found throughout Yu Hsi’s work.

IV. Aesthetic elements
Well-versed in the arts and learning of both ancient and modern times, in Prasrabdhi Yu Hsi demonstrates his considerable talents in a variety of fields, including poetry, drama, fiction, dance, photography, art, and music. Due to limitations of space, in this article it won’t be possible to cover all of these. Below I will only touch on the following: morality, the combination of poetry and drawing, and the integration of Buddhist and Daoist ideas.

A. Moral beauty
At the end of each volume it’s said that the entire work derives from the “fragrant sea providing the overall appearance of the universe.” In connection with this fragrant sea, Lin Qingxuan states:

In Buddhist cosmology, the world consists of nine mountains and eight seas. Seven of these seas are filled with saltwater, but the eighth is filled with the ‘water of the eight virtues,’ and has a delicate and refreshing fragrance; hence it is called the ‘fragrant sea.’ Treading the bodhisattva path is like leaving behind the saltwater of greed, hatred, delusion, and arrogance, and swimming into the fragrant sea, the waters of which are characterized by eight virtues: purity, freshness, sweetness, lightness, glossiness, softness, the ability to relieve thirst and hunger, and the ability to nurture wholesome qualities.[35]

In Prasrabdhi Yu Hsi gathers together for all the people of the world these eight virtues of the fragrant sea—purity, freshness, sweetness, lightness, glossiness, softness, the ability to relieve thirst and hunger, and the ability to nurture wholesome qualities —thereby creating a delicate and refreshing scent which seemingly fills the reader’s nostrils and enters into his bones, imbuing him with an uplifting and edifying sense of spiritual illumination! We can see this idea conveyed in the poem “Supernova”:

In the great sea of ​​eternal light
a thousand sounds and a million colors appear via delusion
Two pairs of eyes and ears in the topsy-turvy world pursue gnosis
In the palace of majestic sound, nineteen towering Chinese juniper trees
Daily waving to the drifting clouds
In front of the palace seven stunning lotuses bloom
Wondering who can penetrate
that ancient myth, exceedingly abstruse.[36]

The Lotus Sutra mentions a buddha of the distant past by the name of the King of Awe-inspiring Sound (Bhisma-garjita-svara-raja). This awe-inspiring sound represents one’s original nature, what Yu Hsi frequently refers to as the “homeland of the spirit” and the “homeland of virtue.” In this poem the terms “palace,” “Chinese juniper trees,” and “lotuses” indicate the majesty of the sacred realm which is our destination. Conversely, the terms “delusion,” “a thousand sounds and a million colors,” and “topsy-turvy world” indicate those factors which impede gnosis. This type of religious aesthetic could be called “moral beauty.”

B. Combination of poetry and visual art
The original manuscript of Prasrabdhi was written out on the same type of long scrolls used for landscape paintings and includes a wide variety of sketches added by the author, some of which can be seen reproduced in the printed edition. In fact, the combination of these sketches with Yu Hsi’s masterly descriptions of natural scenery make the manuscript seem rather like a landscape painting. Thus Lin Wenqin compare’s Yu Hsi’s composition technique to that of a splash-ink painter:

The original manuscript of Prasrabdhi is written on long scrolls made of silk paper; hence the 11-volume collection is also called [the collection of] “Long-scroll Poetry.” Each scroll / book has between 150 and 200 lines. Viewed from a distance, each scroll has the momentum and vigor of a splash-ink landscape painting; viewed up close, each line exudes the natural and flowing movement of everyday life, going where it needs to go, and halting when it needs to halt. In this way, Yu Hsi opens a marvelous new door onto the world of Chinese free verse.[37]

Thus we can see that in composing Prasrabdhi Yu Hsi adopted the approach of a visual artist. As for the scrolls which are mostly text, covering the entire length of the scroll, each line is written horizontally, with minimal punctuation, such that each sentence runs into the next. As can be easily seen in the printed edition, each scroll contains about 200 lines with an average of ten characters each, making about 2,000 characters per scroll. This, however, only applies to a portion of the scrolls, many of which include waving and circling lines of text interspersed with a variety of doodles and sketches. Some of these scrolls are reminiscent of landscape paintings, while others have the appearance of written talismans. Thus in Book 1, in the poem “The Scroll of Life,” Yu Hsi compares life to a scroll when he writes, “From days of old up to now who knows how to press the pause button?” and “A stranger accidentally drawn into a mysterious dream.”[38] Indeed, many of the scrolls evoke the image of a vast imaginary landscape, or a centerless labyrinth full of marvelous shapes and images appearing at every turn; hence the collection is called “long-scroll poetry.” Furthermore, for the seeker of truth, life is like a journey through a long landscape painting, in which one starts off tenuously, like a tiny spring, gradually increasing in size and strength to the point of effortlessly cutting through mountains embellished with strange and wondrous sights, finally making its way to the coastal plains and entering the great sea, where it leaves behind a richly fertile alluvial plain. Thus it would be apt to describe Prasrabdhi as a seamless integration of art and poetry.

C. The amalgamation of Buddhist and Daoist concepts
In his youth, Yu Hsi’s first love was Daoism, and it was only afterwards that he discovered his deep affinity with Buddhism. Thus in Prasrabdhi we find a seamless combination of both Buddhist and Daoist ideas and motifs, with the former being more prominent, and the latter more subsidiary. In this connection Yu Hsi writes:

Right from my youth, I’ve always had a keen interest in Daoist philosophy,
So I’ve always endeavored to cultivate virtue and purity.
Buddhist practice comes about thru a deeply established affinity;
It’s a kind of grace[39]

The average Daoist enthusiast takes it up in old age merely as a way of promoting physical vigor, without giving much attention to such deeper teachings as tranquility and modesty. By contrast, for Yu Hsi Daoism is first and foremost a form of spiritual practice, as can be seen in his writings. On the topic of Daoism as a spiritual practice, Zhu Yuanyu, a master of Daoist alchemy during the Qing dynasty and an advocate of the unity of the three religions (Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism), writes:

Before your parents were born, everything was complete, vast, and numinous. Originally there was no pollution, and thus no need to cultivate an awareness of reality. Within space there was no space, the true lord of space, what is called the essential one supreme. Then a numinous light came from the great void, swiftly drawing near, directly entering the shrine room in the central palace, becoming the master of the entire body, what’s called the one supreme of each person. The master dwelled in the shrine room, in communion with the heavenly valley above, with the sea of vital energy below; nature and life were not yet separate; this was the original face in all its completeness. Once the news began to sprout in the palace, the breath of the universe was summoned into the two nostrils, penetrating straight into the heavenly valley and right down to the sea of vital energy; the qian went down and connected with the kun, and a yao within the kun was realized to become kan; this is what is called the stem of life. The kun changed into kan, wherein a moon followed the vital energy of heaven and ascended to the heavenly valley; the kun rose up to connect with the qian, wherein a yao broke out and departed; this is the nature root. . . . Leaving the sun and entering the moon, the breath comes and goes, in accord with the dao within heaven and earth extending for 84,000 li. One opens, another closes, dividing into night and day; one disappears, one rests, setting up the months; one dims, another spreads, differentiating winter and summer; one is happy, another angry, turning out spring and autumn. Thus were completed the four seasons and the five elements, taking form in my very body.[40]

In Daoist alchemy, ontology is usually combined with cosmology, and is oriented towards the attainment of a deathless essence which arises out of non-being. Inasmuch as this essence continues from life to life, it can’t be said to be truly empty; rather, it has a kind of marvelous existence that transcends the distinction between existence and non-existence. Thus this true emptiness and marvelous existence are called the study of life and its essence. Cultivation of one’s nature is called true emptiness; cultivation of physical vitality is called marvelous existence. True emptiness is not empty; within one’s nature there is physical vitality; marvelous existence is not mere existence; within physical vitality there is one’s nature. Thus the main purpose of Daoist alchemy is the lifelong cultivation of both one’s nature and physical vitality. As for the problems that arise from a bias towards one or the other, in the Songs Metered According to the Hexagram Lines, Lu Dongbin writes, “Cultivating only one’s essence, but not physical vitality, is the foremost type of defective practice, for it darkens the spirit and makes it difficult to enter into the sacred for many eons. The opposite bias brings equally deleterious results.” Thus we can see that either type of bias makes it impossible to transcend the state of the average person. Of course I’m not qualified to comment on Yu Hsi’s spiritual attainments, but from his poem “Contemplating, Contemplating, Contemplating, Seeing!” we do get some indication:

The Yogi grasps the yin and yang tucked inside his sleeves
taiji lodged between the eyebrows
two feet imprinted in mud contaminated by cosmic soil
Single thought of the master of the world of enlightenment
revolves in a six-dimensional space of the master of the world of sentient beings.[41]

While such terms as yin, yang, and taiji might seem to be a reference to Confucian cosmogony, the lines “The Yogi grasps the yin and yang tucked inside his sleeves” and “taiji lodged between the eyebrows” actually refer to the Daoist ideas of one’s fate being in one’s own hands, and of the supreme within every person. The last two lines of this stanza are an ingenious amalgamation of Buddhist and Daoist concepts. From the Buddhist perspective they refer to the universal buddha-nature; from the Daoist perspective they refer to the acquired body—thus the master of the world of sentient beings is innately endowed with the vital energy of the master of the world of enlightenment. This gives us a glimpse of Yu Hsi’s level of spiritual cultivation, as well as the profundity of thought found in Prasrabdhi in such abundance.

In addition, in the poem “The Retail Shop Selling 17-year-old Vexations” we also find this integration of Buddhist and Daoist ideas:

I can be the host within the host,
The bee banters the butterfly, who opens its beautiful wings and closes them up again
A boy regards the pond as a treasured mirror
Reflecting heaven, earth, sun, moon; brightness everywhere[42]

This is another masterly amalgamation of Buddhist and Daoist thought. From the Buddhist perspective, when the mind returns to the real, this results in physical purification and the arising of wisdom, like a pond that extends throughout the trichiliocosm, right into the Dharma realm. From the Daoist perspective, my fate is in my own hands, and my mind is my essence; through the dual cultivation of this essence and vital life energy, light fills the body and I return to emptiness and the way. Although not the main theme, this masterly integration of Buddhist and Daoist ideas adds considerable aesthetic value to Prasrabdhi.

V. Conclusion
While Yu Hsi writes in a variety of genres and draws inspiration from various sources, his mainstay is Chan Buddhist poetry. Through his poetic genius he endeavors to create an ideal homeland of the spirit and to share his beautiful vision with all the people of the world. In 2003 he commenced work on Prasrabdhi as a way of celebrating the idea that everyone is endowed with inherent spiritual awareness, and to help the reader to cultivate wisdom and attain freedom from mental afflictions. Skillfully combining poetry and graphics into a visual banquet, Yu Hsi draws upon the profound teachings of Chinese religion and philosophy to reveal the true appearance of life and to point the way back to our true spiritual home.

Due to my limited capacity at present, it’s not possible to make a comprehensive comparison of Prasrabdhi with Yu Hsi’s other works, as compelling and intriguing as this would surely be. Each of its 111 books boasts a plethora of topics presented with masterly figures of speech. In some of the books the topic expressed in the title is found throughout; in others it serves the function of a key sentence; in yet others the connection is largely left to the reader’s imagination. Also, the entire collection is elegantly arranged in such a way that themes found in the earlier parts are echoed and amplified in the later parts, aiding the reader’s sense of orientation. These are aspects of Prasrabdhi that I hope to take up in a future work.

[1] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 3 (Taipei: Poem Cultural Corporation, 2017), p. .
[2] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 8, p. .
[3] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 9, p. .
[4] Website of the National Museum of Taiwan Literature, http://tln.nmtl.gov.tw/ch/m2/nmtl_w1_m2_c_2.aspx?person_number=M02002.
[5] Selected readings from the Novels of Yu Hsi (Taipei: Morning Star Publishers, 2010).
[6] Xu Weiqiang, “Yu Hsi’s Collections of Short Poems” (master’s thesis, National Kaohsiung Normal University, 2014).
[7] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, Preface to vol. 6, p. .
[8] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 2, p. .
[9] Master Weijue, Commentary on the Wisdom Chapter of the Platform Sutra (Taizhong: Zhongtai Buddhist Monastery), http://www.ctworld.org.tw/turn/sutra/014.htm (accessed September 16, 2016).
[10] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 8, p. .
[11] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 8, p. .
[12] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 6, p. . The Sanskrit term samatha means concentration and tranquility.
[13] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 9, p. .
[14] Yu Hsi, “Song of the Sea,” in Yu Hsi Poetry Anthology, (Taipei: Poem Cultural Corporation, 2005).
[15] Lin Wenqin, “Approaching the Sublime: The Concept of Salvation in Yu Hsi’s Prasrabdhi,” New Source Person 80 (2012), p. 96.
[16] Master Xuanhua, Bodhi is Not a Tree (Taipei: Dharma Realm Buddhist Publishing Society, 2013), p. 65.
[17] Master Xingyun, “Buddhadharma in the World,” Merit Times, September 14, 2016, http://www.merit-times.com.tw/NewsPage.aspx?unid=274693.
[18] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 5, p. .
[19] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 7, p. .
[20] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 7, p. .
[21] Chen Yixiu, “Growing up and Discrimination: A Study of Siddhartha” (master’s thesis, National Chenggong University, 2009).
[22] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 3, p. .
[23] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 2, p. .
[24] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, Preface to vol. 1, p. .
[25] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 1, p. .
[26] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 4, p. .
[27] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 11, p. .
[28] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 10, p. .
[29] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 5, p. .
[30] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 3, p. .
[31] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 1, p. .
[32] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 7, p. .
[33] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 5, p. .
[34] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 1, p. .
[35] Lin Qingxuan, Preface to The Fragrant Sea (Taipei: Jiuge Publishing, 1990).
[36] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 3, p. .
[37] Lin Wenqin, “Approaching the Sublime: The Concept of Salvation in Yu Hsi’s Prasrabdhi,” New Source Person 80 (2012), p. 94.
[38] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 1, p. .
[39] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 8, p. .
[40] Zhu Yuanyu, Uncovering the Obscurities of the Cantong qi (Beijing: Huaxia Publishing House, 2009), pp. 25–25.
[41] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 5, p. .
[42] Yu Hsi, Prasrabdhi, vol. 3, p. .