Table of Contents
Book 73 Northwest Life-continuum, Originating in Cold Dew, 2001 ─ A road extended indefinitely by a dreamer
Book 74 Northwest Adverting, Originating in Frost Descends, 2001 —Who is able to eliminate distorted views born of vain imaginings?
Book 75 Northwest Perception, Originating in Frost Descends, 2001—Neither detained by this shore, nor abiding on the further shore
Book 76 Northwest Reception, Originating in Birth of Winter, 2001—Gate of thusness in the bamboo hedge of ten-dimensional space at midnight
Book 77 Northwest Mind Investigation, Originating in Birth of Winter, 2001 —Hidden in the original dream within a sevenfold dream
Book 78 Northwest Determining, Originating in Birth of Winter, 2001 —Fantasy island arranged by you, me, him ……
Book 79 Northwest Impulsion, Originating in Lesser Snow, 2001─Causes and conditions erroneously called coincidence
Book 80 Northwest Registering, Originating in Lesser Snow, 2001 ─ In hope of weeding out subtle confusion
Book 81 Northwest Essence of the Life-continuum, Originating in Greater Snow, 2001─One of the five delights of childhood


Book 73 Northwest Life-continuum, Originating in Cold Dew, 2001
─ A road extended indefinitely by a dreamer

Ascending 53 steps, one by one
observing fifty-three kinds of scenery
Engaging in forty-two kinds of games, venerable
subtle contact of the sense organs with the six wisdoms and seven emotions
The Wanderer waves to the Traveler high on a mountain
Memory intersecting with dreams
The Visitor greets the Vagrant on a skiff at the side of a lake
Mind and spirit instantly nimble
A road extended indefinitely by a dreamer.
Dusk a youthful old man plays the erhu under the eaves
Premonition of an ocean-world inside a bottle
with a mysterious delta just like
A soaring sail, inducing people to enjoy themselves unto forgetting
Moonlight filtering thru a grape trellis outside a bamboo fence
Cold Dew, condensed night vapor lodging on the branches
an invincible black eagle watches over the gateway of the first rays of the rising sun
On the further shore, white in flight welcomes Frost Descends
Autumn waves follow the westerly wind to the middle of the sea
On this shore, naked branches dance alone in the misty sky
Precious raft of the cool moon of late autumn
Full of orange, yellow, purple, and red chasing the waves and hiding in a silvery world ……
Tears harbored in the Maiden’s eyes
Eager to compose a memorandum of love and affection
Three or five candles accompany a pair of shoes
Thoughts entering and leaving … wandering about
Golden spotted bamboo, each stalk as lovely as jadeite
white-bellied yuhina fond of singing a supple song of purity
Guest in a dream once dreamed of the creation of the world
Vigorously reciting the paramount meaning in all the world
Yet presently unaware of the pearl inside his lapel
Only capable of a short sojourn on the lofty Biefeng
in search of that ancient impression
The native place of the moon-water beyond the pale of civilization
The flower-planting Youth’s boisterous song drowns out
those wavering adventitious defilements
The emptiness of an essential nature amongst sense objects—
That kind heart of the Scion Drifter
why does it always get on the wrong bus
The Wanderer’s mood flies off 3,000 li to the world of the ancient moon
golden drum in memory sounding forth
hoping that an old friend
will join him in storing away the setting sun.
Clambering on the sea of consciousness
vain imaginings ready for action
Syntax of attachment shifts the order of affection
It’s said that in the mountains there is one of lofty character
good at directing travelers thru the maze
Returning to the source, restoring
The Youth’s simple and modest countenance is seen no more
Thriving old wisteria attached to a blue cliff
Nerve-wracking winds startling sounds
Karmic forces played out by the meddlesome autumn
Who is it who barges into a boundless dream
Overturning the five mirror-lamps of seven-dimensional space
Throwing into disorder the eighth dimension
No harmony between the six marks: general, specific; same, different; arising, ceasing
An extremely delicate silk ribbon hangs down
sprinkling countless water-flowers filling valley and dale
Moon on high, dark and bright; half-open, half-closed
jeweled mirror of spiritual luminosity obscured by opaque fog
Muddy waters of the five turbidities; when will they clarify
Tide fond of serenading the moonlight
It’s said that winter arrives following Frost Descends
when Hehuan Mountain is snow bound
Cold Dew genial daylight
Covered over by superimposed white hair
An island in the sea, just like a lantern adorned with revolving paper horses
shining in the Milky Way
Shallow grass roots unable to grip the earth
Duckweed drifting in the lake not knowing what to depend on
For thousands of years, countless positioning buoys
drifting in the current.
Peach lotus chrysanthemum plum in order
Storing the soil and hummus of the four seasons
smell and taste, form and sound
Each and every subtle thought is a function of the tiny self
Notion of life span, in the darkroom of the aggregate-seed
developing high sensitivity photos
mementos for those fond of reminiscing
Going too far—into the lens
eyebrows and eyelashes accidentally scorched by refracted light
In a dream, a pair of feet treading on the sky, dropping into the water
instantly doing a duck paddle to reach the further shore
Who is it who overturned the order of heaven and earth
By virtue of the excess light of attachment entering the world of emotive reality
By virtue of a shuttling sentence of proper and improper speech
ears hearing sound, silent hearing
Tranquil thoughts instantly rolled up by the flowers of evil
The mind of fearlessness forthwith falls into a dark vortex
Spiritual luminosity and turbidity in
a tug of war between good and evil in an echoing valley
A doll once a toy in the hand, now cold as ice
The sad tale of a lonely island replays again and again
Formerly, the best of men regarded the lowest
as adorable angels
Presently, the lowest in pursuit of the highest
completely forget who they are ……
Blue and green of the height of summer have become past tense
Luxuriant aromas no longer blowing
Fiery enthusiasm of a sentient being waiting for another bright sky
Mountain, peaks whirling in bright buds
Sea, waves loitering in the numinous water-mirror
Thousands of colors sprinkled from the length and breadth of the galaxy
A solid seed, after a millennia
Grows into a wish-fulfilling tree, lovely and august.
Cold dew of late autumn, frost ready to descend
White-bellied yuhina fond of imbibing the dew condensed on dry branches
Country path scarecrow waiting for the birds
from daybreak to sunset
The Shepherd Boy can’t match
The white ox in making merit
Who is it who shattered the primordial bright mirror
Scattering moonlight all over the ground, turning into countless stars
reflected in Indra’s bright net
Who was it who without cause
Pilfered all the valuables of virtue in the scripture of the empty sea of consciousness
such that the lonely heart hangs in space
friendless and helpless, vacillating and staggering, adrift in nihility …
Shouting unto hoarseness
All for the sake of pandering to beseeching humanity
Blazing fiery language discharged from the mouth
Assaulting the unshielded ears
Instantly arousing
sky-shaking waves on the sea of consciousness
The Youth of the native place can’t abide in that august and numinous peaceful samadhi
Expression expressing a light wave of attachment
A forbidding cliff
Serves as the playground of those who enjoy climbing.
Virtual image in the eye transmitted to someone’s yearning
Flowers hazier than fog
Asleep, eyelashes still with dew
All because of the inability to find the secret text on erratic mood swings
Awake, lamp still not lit
Ridge of an ancient temple waiting for ten million phoenixes
Yet unseen by someone
As it turns out, the front foot treads on awakening
the back foot on the two footholds of confusion
The sailing Youth is about to place the frame of heaven and earth into the center of the sea
The subtly turning Youth driving sound and form, reversing the wind and clouds
Typhoon night, local bus on the coast road
hastening from one stop to the next
A playful child groping in the dark
setting off from his metaphysical home
homeland of the spirit lost from then on ……
It’s said that last night a sorcerer
used his powers to send away the typhoon
Invoking—the song of Frost Descends
an entreaty for safety and wellbeing on October 17
With a lull in yesterday’s storm
Some went to work or school
Others stayed home
Wavering suspension bridge
A naughty boy rode his bicycle over the debris
Dark heaven and earth, actions of body, speech, and mind
all already gone over the bridge
Why, then, does that irascible temper not cross over?
Ascending a stairway of 53 steps
Hate and love, intertwined on a stupa 300 years old
carved on the empty bridge of fantasy
The Youth paddles with two hands
A canoe shoots back to the heart
According with conditions, encircling
Forty-two grand circulations without set pattern
From the residual images in the eyes
Someone sees the mark of self in every mark
Meeting again after a long separation
Instantly—dusty faculties take in present phenomena
storing them in the space of future memory
Colorful clouds light up the raiment of the earth
Raging fire chases after the empty world, like dew and lightning
Ancient bronze mirror, aura already faded
All that remains is a mysterious ancient compass
Magnetic needle still pointing south
Gulls freely fly along the coast
Two fisherman fishing, a child watches in reverse.
Who is it who uses the comprehensive position of the self to divide by 7
Again dividing by 7
Offering whatever remains to you and him
and innumerable sentient beings,
Completely unaware of how to multiply by the mark of reality
Again multiplying by purity and perfect brightness
Then again multiplying by the secret treasury of three points
Such a compound body
Instantly
revealing the jeweled vajra-sword of tacit understanding
Mighty shining
Striking fear in even the tiny ant on the steps!
Who is it who is so fond of making an appointment with winter
To freeze over the countless mountain streams
Then using a silver cup to scoop up some snow
boiled on coals to become the orb of the bright moon
Golden beach
A child fantasizes about carrying a whole mountain across the sea
The Maiden uses an inverted hourglass to time the shooting stars
Countryside village
Previously with lots of people, today with few
There is an old man on a barren mountain, his land without papers
The Vagrant returns, but no one recognizes one another
His hometown sweetheart already entered into
the endless drama of the universe.
Blue flame, invisible danger
Yet its touch burns all the same
Disappearing in the wink of an eye
Able to bear all the tribulation of the world, yet happily stating:
“I don’t experience the condition of suffering.”
Joy is draping the senses in the illusory form of magical sound
Scanned into the zone of feeling, perception, conditioning, and consciousness
Fantasy representations □□□□□□□

Birth of Summer (May 7), 2003
Hall of Fragrant Recitation
​==back to top==

Book 74 Northwest Adverting, Originating in Frost Descends, 2001
—Who is able to eliminate distorted views born of vain imaginings?

Sunrise first illuminates the high peaks
Blue cliffs vying to portray a waterfall’s greenish white light
Moon shining bright below the water
Feeling and unfeeling
Fallen flowers carried by a stream below a footbridge
The sound of the river and wind
dancing barefoot for a century
Frost Descends, southwest people sowing seeds to usher in the spring
Under a blue sky
Children squatting round a tree to see a kite
The Shepherd Boy counts the days—
Embracing the mind of the past, up to the
the spiral galaxy of the future
The big white ox lumbers forward
Pulling along the mind of the future harnessed to
the Realm of the Awe-inspiring Sound in the immeasurable past
Glow of sunset paints red the peaks and trees
An explorer on an ancient path in the dense forest
drawn forwards by tales of a legendary paradise,
Smitten with spring.
==back to top==

Book 74 Northwest Adverting, Originating in Frost Descends, 2001
—Who is able to eliminate distorted views born of vain imaginings?

Sunrise first illuminates the high peaks
Blue cliffs vying to portray a waterfall’s greenish white light
Moon shining bright below the water
Feeling and unfeeling
Fallen flowers carried by a stream below a footbridge
The sound of the river and wind
dancing barefoot for a century
Frost Descends, southwest people sowing seeds to usher in the spring
Under a blue sky
Children squatting round a tree to see a kite
The Shepherd Boy counts the days—
Embracing the mind of the past, up to the
the spiral galaxy of the future
The big white ox lumbers forward
Pulling along the mind of the future harnessed to
the Realm of the Awe-inspiring Sound in the immeasurable past
Glow of sunset paints red the peaks and trees
An explorer on an ancient path in the dense forest
drawn forwards by tales of a legendary paradise,
Smitten with spring.
Charcoal fire in winter blooming with affection
Innumerable seeds presently
in the soil brimming with latent vitality, arranging
to meet next year on Birth of Insects
Wavering adventitious defilements
Plunged below a desolate frozen lake
settled
waiting for the thaw, in between
The earlier red
and the later green
Life gestating in the nimble zone of the five aggregates
Moonlight glittering above the Maiden’s eyebrows
The Youth’s eloquence
unfolds the dream space of the night
Empty, yet full of life full of life, yet empty
Manifesting in a mysterious glass vase of lapis lazuli
Foam, the fairies of the sea
Singing of arising, singing of ceasing
Motes of dust … innumerable
Blown up by the thousands by the winds of conditions, bubbles arise on the surging sea of consciousness
Depicting you, me, him
Host and guest cohering • affinities • reciprocating
A reclining boulder flies in
from the space beyond the realm of dust.
First glimmerings of light slowly cast off their gorgeous hues
as the sun rises higher
Late at night, an old tree next to the house
Listens to the aspirations of a room full of voices
A hemp bag in the universe
On a rickety sofa filling the room
you sit alone—
Who is it who is able to eliminate distorted views born of vain imaginings?
Manifest right knowing, original, innate, childlike.
Who is it who can hear the wisdom of the old sacred tree on the hill?
Fully entering into the continuously unfolding secret mark of reality
revealed by heaven and earth?
See that palace of the world, rooms
densely woven and interconnected like a honeycomb
windows spinning in the door of arising and ceasing
See those houseboats in their watery realm, like the seedpods of a lotus
each dwelling in comfort with an abundance of space
ever abiding within the gate of the Dharma realm of thusness
Secret cause of the Saha world, giving birth to the universe
of eighty-four thousand species
The Tathagata is a physician of consummate skill, using eighty-four thousand herbs
to relieve the tribulations of all sentient beings
Bright meteor shower in the night sky
Blown by an autumn wind into the deep center of the sea, lurking
Surface of a mirror, using the universe to inscribe
Six points in a straight line on both sides
Hour and minute hands overlap forming a radius
returning to zero, then drawing a circle
The Youth uses time
To paint a vague face
daily camouflage, taking on appearances
Eager to find in the lens ─ a picture of himself
Expression like an arrow, instantly
shooting out from the beautiful eyes
Thunder ignites due to ignorance, flames spread in the ten directions
slightly worried about catching up with the dust of the world
Westerly wind kicks a fire-red palette
an absolutely white cloud instantly becomes
an abstract Phoenix
Huh? Who is it who applied color to his colorful raiment?
Searching, for the taste
hidden in the mother's skirt during childhood
Crying, because of falling into
a dream-like memory of the past in the past
Described with words in endless succession already
devoured by the vicissitudes of history…
Now all that remains is a fragrance in the heart
May all contribute—to the boundless world as everlasting as heaven and earth
Rosy clouds on the further shore wipe a corner of the sea-mirror
From the side of a cliff on Spirit Mountain
There floats up a cloud in the form of an old fishing wharf
A youngster treads on the spindrift and swings on a swing at the center of the sea
An old man on a barren mountain looks in an ancient bronze mirror
searching for an old coin stashed away in childhood
There is a big yellow chrysanthemum that fears not the frost
Via the last rays of autumn sunlight
transmitting a secret message—
Alas! All the anxieties of sentient beings
Unable to put them down
Boundless vault of heaven
Dawn and sunset every day singing on high, wandering
The vast ocean
White sailboat and green treasure raft sail, every night
always roaming ......
Who is it who can prepare a blueprint
Of a life of supreme wisdom, dignified and full of beauty
Behold a rainbow after the rain, that lovely scenery
Heaven and earth turning in dependence on the sun and moon
Why no response
even when that wanderer is already thinking back
A pair of eyes like a hall of mirrors
Overlapping illusions interacting to generate attachment
Memory and delusion intersecting importing
affection for the compatibility of the one and the many
There is a night-traveler in camouflage clothing stealing
into the kingdom of darkness by night
pilfering that magic pearl of a hundred transformations
There is a self, it dreamed of
a blue whale swimming into the Milky Way
in its mouth a bright and splendid Polaris
Lake of light, with a lamp
Everlasting and endowed with the eye of purity
The dark matter of ignorance has never been concealed
A wondrous blue river that never lacks water
A non-reversing sailing ship, the defilements of a fearless dust storm
Whatever contacts the eye is real eternal
momentary marks manifesting in wide variety
Missed by a gnat’s eyelash! Like a kite let loose by a mischievous urchin
instantly flounders …
Eyes turned towards the wind, how do they open
Bright beautiful waves passing over peaks
summits, pinnacles
Then taking a rest on Biefeng.
Shadows of bare branches thick on the ground, travelers repeatedly treading on the green grass
Autumn rains connecting dim sky into shadows, late-day wind swishing past
Power of mindfulness, using curved speed to directly enter
the spiraling Milky Way leaving its image in the future
Visualization, instantly crossing over
the mighty river of time adept at sowing seeds
Dreaming of chasing butterflies on the cloud path in flight
Flowers inspired by the dew lingering
In Park Number 7, under a few visiting trees
a few out-of-town visitors
compose an intermission
The numerals 08 and 98 pieced together into an enigmatic butterfly suit
Rolling the eyes, accidentally kicking over the paint bucket
causing all colors of the ten directions and three times to stick together
Call of three thousand seagulls coming in from hundreds of li away
Someone uses listening to entreat the ears instantly
Expelling all silent loud sounds out of the ear door
Forgotten ancient farm, still following a custom
drawing water for cooking from a certain well, mixing it
with the fragrant moonlight
Boundless sea of stars
Three thousand teenagers lighting
Camp fires transmitting enthusiasm up to the seventh heaven
moving
At the very moment when six thousand hands
are linked
Just then, the earth ox faintly rumbles
Stars shining the light of wisdom
Form wrapped by desire in multiple layers of sugar coating responding to a sound
shedding its shell!
Original pure nature, instantly appearing before the eyes …
Maple branches swaying, finally
a single red leaf falls
Autumn has become a memory
Quiet mountain lake
covered with a thin layer of frost
Obedient to time, about to enter into hibernation.
Mountain temple ancient bell rings 108 times
galaxy of a trillion stars, bright eyes wide open
Clap of the wooden board in the temple lightly
Waking the spirits of the beings filling the mountain and gorge
Early in the morning
Three thousand pilgrims compose the song of Frost Descends
Celestial eagle returns to its nest, raising the dust
Thirteen-story pagoda, all things pure and beaming
It’s said that there is an ancient temple ready to spring up from the ground…
Forty-two letters writing out an epiphany in the sky
Surging and resplendent waterfall
gorge of the wind with god-like powers
blowing those hazy droplets of water
Whirling upwards
Who is it who can rely on the true self—
to draw a blueprint of life, truthful and not empty
for finding the phantom city
and the bright pearl in the purple-gold robe of childhood
Birth of Winter, vast expanse of white snow frozen solid
A towering tree three thousand years in age
Moved by the force of karma, a seed falls rattling
sound piercing the universe!
There is an energy from the silence of the North
Spewing black light, swirling into
the vortex of the dark sea of ignorance, quickly
spinning into
yin and yang
What involves the world turns into the four seasons
Fragrant grass greener than green
Peaches redder than red
The Wanderer brandishing a stick can’t strike the moon in the water
A candle in the window across the street draws
Latent delusions into the dance.
Early winter snowflakes falling from the sky of a northern clime
Stir the Visitor’s old memories
First one thought then another
Thought after thought carried by the wind far and wide
Earlier a thought afterwards another
Thought after thought, like the water of a thousand rivers rushing to the sea …
Cold sky
Dark earth
Tonight someone again far from home lights a lamp and plays with shadows
In a series of puppet shows
Just like
The bodhisattva Aksayamati
Sympathy endless □□□□□□□□

May 7, 2003
Hall of Fragrant Recitation
==back to top==

Book 75 Northwest Perception, Originating in Frost Descends, 2001
—Neither detained by this shore, nor abiding on the further shore

Mountain city inn at dusk
Solitary Traveler wandering in solitude
Stone pillow sleepless night
But for a dream of a drizzle
falling in a peach grove, a full autumn season
A maiden gives him a yellow chrysanthemum
Then grounds him for thirty days
Wake up, climbing alone to the summit of Mount Jade
yet on Biefeng first
Illuminated by the rising sun
Morning sunlight about to flow, rosy clouds filling the sky
Light fog follows the wind all over the ashy gray sea
A gold building of five colors rises on the horizon
Accompanied by thunder and lightning
Inside and outside the windows, instantly off the rails
Turn around, already become solitary.
Chase chase chase
Ancient map reveals not someone’s new address
A vast expanse of the road home
Silvergrass waves, billowing at length
Branch upon branch sucked out of a watery sleeve by the wind
Sentient beings reluctant to let go
hundred worries, thousand anxieties; tear-soaked lapel ……
Empirical consciousness discriminating you me him
Viewing signs on two sides, host and guest not blending
Fundamental flame-seed and lit charcoal
harmoniously dimming the radiance and mingling with the dust
Eighty-four thousand kinds of karmic forces produce the beguiling prince of darkness
Wanggong Fishing Port at dusk
A group of kids shouting at the seaside ─
"Boats! The boats are coming back!"
A group of girls holding baskets waiting in a row
Setting sun turns the long beach into a gilded corridor
Instantly a momentary image
turning within the eye of a falcon soaring in space
A gong from three thousand years ago sounds again
in dialogue with the polyphonic tones of a golden eagle
A fisherman returns to a dark room and lights a lamp
Instantly, bright mirrors on all sides
propping up the starry sky
A boy’s dream, dancing inside a purple flame
The Youth’s vain imaginings on a sleepless night
arrive at the phantom city
Distant sky outside the window
All the stars moving on the margins of the Milky Way
Cluelessly gazing at the optical network of the Milky Way
wondering who sent up all those satellites
secretly photographing, transmitting
spying on all the gods …
Old home without an old friend; who carried out the renovations
New person bashfully enters waiting for an old friend
Fantasies floating on the shore of a dream, searching
for the peach grove of the native place
Subconscious tied down by memories of past events
Lingering.
The immortal Maiden, forever in the Youth’s heart
blossoming into an eternal seven-colored rainbow
In an old dream
Who was it who shone forth a light from between the eyebrows stirring up
that water-moon world in a pair of eyes
Who was it who was woken up in the middle of the night by purple lightning and blue frost—
Instantly making an end of every virtual apparition.
Ancient vitality, a group of people on a salt mound
Reminiscing about the livelihood game of the salt haulers of old
Recapturing the sentiments and conditions of the world
A tragic comedy unfolding
See that benevolent one pinching the cold sweat … soaked garment
Autumn rain intermittent
adding several knots to a troubled heart
A huge black palm has already covered the sky for several days in a row
sun, moon, stars all gone into hiding
Dream within a dream, one foot steps in the mud
Two hands touch a blue cliff
Slippery moss
Heaven and earth, mountains and rivers, every type of lovely scene rushes into a pair of eyes
Flora, wind, clouds, all stretching into the four seasons and entering someone’s ears
Not rousing me from a dream
wondering who the host is
Instantly coming to, like the stars hiding when the sun begins to shine
Big round mirror inside a room
Calling in the blue sky outside the window
A youngster alone on a lofty peak calls out three times
there on Biefeng that lotus flower suddenly drops
Rosy clouds and first beams of light slowly raise the great sun
up from the surface of the sea
As if tired out from moving house last night
Just so, this morning back in full form
□□□□□□□
Numbers coming and going … momentary motes of dust …
Clean and pure … insubstantial and void
Dusk red glow descends on the sandy shore
Fishermen pick up the pace, propelling a raft
into the dark night to catch fish
Bubbles arising and ceasing in a moment
instantly absorbing the eternal sunset
Sailboat chasing waves
With and against the current
Both pure and defiled
Clouds accompany waves
Undulating above
Surging below
Thoughts flowing about, or perhaps
bubbles formed of wind and rain
Manifesting unsettled, all corresponding, not imprinting
Neither detained by this shore
Nor abiding on the further shore
Piloting an unsinkable irreversible sailing ship
Shuttling travelers coming and going back and forth
That fellow with the punt pole—that’s me!
On the shore an aboriginal
dances out the order of heaven and earth
A thousand-year-old wisteria climbs a cliff and mounts a waterfall
adjusting the moral order of the universe
The photographer-Yogi paints a frame and frames himself therein
where there is an old wall with a big hole
A few kids poking their heads thru it
wondering what to look at
In a dark forest there is a pair of fox eyes
flashing like lightning
There is a hunter with eyebrows like bows shooting off
streams of flint sparks
It’s the same kind of experience that invites the six senses to take a risk
Essence of consciousness, stirs up the lake of the mind composed of water and wind
Someone between two mountain valleys performs somersaults
A naughty boy looks outside the six windows
for another mirror
Only to accidentally tie inverted image knots
repeatedly, without even knowing it
Suddenly the net of Mara lands on the palace of the childlike mind
Besieging innate spiritual luminosity
Instant sound of a drum beating in the ten directions
summoning a pair of ears
All forms returning to the expression in that pair of eyes.
Dim light of night, several spiraling clouds on the horizon
Lightly wiping milk-white and faint-red shadows • back to zero
Drunk on one side, dreaming on the other
not seeing the dense forest
An entertainer and his apprentice
add to this the five tones of the pre-Tang pentatonic scale
A primordial play just for this audience
Eagle spreads its wings and soars into space, startling the jade hare
lost in play!
Ocean seal void and bright, reflecting form and image
Universal freedom, taking in light and shadow
The earliest alphabet of the universe is stored in space
Appearing at will on the white clouds
An ancient galactic black hole draws in infinite light
then gives birth to a supernova
Melancholy sounds of autumn follow a dazzling whirlwind, enticing
anxieties to stream in from all directions
A single-leaf skiff travels a thousand li in a single night
surfing on the countercurrent ...
Crossing thru
A hexagonal windowless opaque black hole
falling into dark nothingness
The lonely spiral sea of ten fingers
set free by the light of love between the eyebrows
An old wooden raft drifts on the waves
Then approaches an ancient sacred tree on a rocky blue shoreline
together painting the hanging house of Spirit Mountain
It’s said that there is a people that has gone without writing
for fifty million years
Secret cause of the universe transmitted from generation to generation by word of mouth
A decrepit old house secluded in the primordial double sal grove
formerly the palace of light
Today’s magnificent houses are the ruins of tomorrow
A thirteen-story pagoda in numinous space, rising up
from within the snow …
In this mundane world there are countless millions of wriggling sentient beings
Greeting the winter, the first cold north wind
blowing out of the sleeves of a silent heavenly realm
A vivid, provocative ode
Making a picture of a high-backed chair
Everyone wants to sit in.
All because of arisen thoughts
At night, round and round
connected dreams fly in from beyond the pillow
A lamp wick burning in dependence on the oil
The phonograph rotated for a hundred years, now obsolete
but some are still sentimentally attached ……
Defective eyes give rise to flowers in the sky
A colony of ants tears up a yellow leaf
in preparation for Birth of Winter
Mutual affinity begins with an expression
Directed by love—
A moon of exceedingly numinous brightness
touches the hand yet is out of reach
Tired from play? A trump card beats a century
Sleepy? A thousand beams of moonlight sail in from the further shore
Suddenly, a snow storm falls from the sky
Who can lay down the dream within a dream
that real virtual illusion
The Wanderer steps on the road home
why on earth proclaim it three times!
Bamboo pavilion in a remote village with an old mailbox
Every year swallowing millions of letters
Day and night continually sending a signal of the uncommon within the uncommon
To a distance of a thousand li separately
permeating millions of dreams born of attachment
From a green pillow on this side to
below the wall eaves on that side, mutually
Depending on entangling thoughts.
Blue sky brushed by a slight breeze
The Public Art Boy turns forty-two letters
into forty-two white cranes swirling in the clouds
touring east south west north center
On that side of the awe-inspiring sound
The Master Craftsman holds the thunder and beats a drum
Dense sound nine li distant
Transmitted to the ear by the megaphone of lightning
A Saha rhyme
Sung loudly by all the beings of the three times and ten directions
but someone accidentally
Turns over the corpulent tongue of the north wind
Who predicted—
That a new element would reappear
in a blazing red flame
Who was it who wantonly poured out the seeds of delusion all over the mountain
creating a mountain of garbage on the boundless sea of consciousness
Flames of passion burning the forest of defilement, waiting in ambush on all sides
besieging a silent city
Ideas born of views inviting dust
Dancing with ignorance
lost □□□□□□□

May 12, 2003

Postscript: Today a good wind blows thru the Wind Pavilion.
==back to top==

Book 76 Northwest Reception, Originating in Birth of Winter, 2001
—Gate of thusness in the bamboo hedge of ten-dimensional space at midnight

Mind floating in the clear blue sky
Consciousness running hither and thither under the deep and resounding rain clouds
Innate karma, smoothly
removing clarity and brightness
Gnosis recalled by an evil spell
confined in the valley of darkness
The boundless and enduring world suddenly turns black
A reddish nose ignites the flames of wrath
With all phenomena as fuel instantly
turning into bursts of smoke.
Form basis of the pernicious world of the five turbidities
Contact with the senses and sea of consciousness, deep dyeing
On the path of attachment, roadblock of the spirit
Affinities with the triple world rush into late autumn
defiling the frost
Depending on the childlike mind, turning in place
it’s still hard to undo the fetters
Feeling each impression drawn in and stored away
Masticating memories in the nine stomachs of rumination
Mind of the past and future bluff and bluster
turning virtual dream images into pupae
Perception rudderless raft following the wind and waves
Brightly colored petals a thousand kinds of hues
incorporated by a sheet of green
Passengers on a boat chasing the current
The Punter wielding his pole, turns up a corner of a cloud
to reveal the orb of the moon
Making it known that tonight the moon is crescent or full
as a boat slowly departs from that home on the mountain …
Conditioning lotus seeds planted in a field
Blue lotus in a fire
hidden for a thousand years, unknown to men
Sea of consciousness pregnant with amethyst
Force of karma subtly contacts the colorful wings of a butterfly
The song of the Saha world sings the self into a stupor
Consciousness lower level of the pernicious world of the five turbidities
thoughts arising from ignorance—
See someone’s spirit fleeing out of the door of
tranquility.
Views and perceptions, fond of clambering on the fence of attachment
turning into ignorance over the course of a millennium
Today, what is the cause of this deep sentiment
Light reflected off the wings of a cicada, circulated by the airflow
Lighting a fluorescent lamp, how to steer clear of
that invisible illusory net on the sea of consciousness?
Who is it who stirred up the wind of the five desires
Blowing up the six types of defilements, mixing with the vague vast sky
It’s this form and emptiness
that obstruct the road of the spirit!
Since countless aeons
The great mirror of perfect illumination has been accumulating
Layers of mud and muck deposited by bees and ants
condensing and solidifying into a mountain of ignorance
Now that original nature is burdened by distorted views
Thus having a predilection for the intoxicating sea of defilements.
Gray heaven and earth augment my feeling
Commiseration long drawn out making it possible to be in harmony with the bodhisattva mind
Huge cloud occludes the tranquil void
Body and shadow drop their imprint in the middle of the water
The beguiling song of the five aggregates lays down the boundary of the five turbidities
The Kapila Incantation conceals the appearance of the world
Eighty-four thousand vexations weaving
the dream-like snare of Mara
layers of interlocking obsessions
From the inherent nature, there leaps forth the deep mind
Dispatched by the secret treasury of three points slipping into
a mote of dust to turn the great wheel of Dharma
Later releasing immeasurable microcrystallite
into motes of dust as numerous as the sands of the Ganges
Turning into the spring soil, that inexhaustible treasure
in the mind-field of all sentient beings.
South fifty-three kinds of schools
Eighty-four thousand wanderers wandering the earth
reluctant to leave ……
Thoughts by day, thoughts by night
Thoughts in front pulling those behind … thoughts behind pushing those ahead
Thought thought thought uncountable
for they are as numerous as the sands of the Ganges
See that primordial sea of aeons in the Realm of the Awe-inspiring Sound outside of the kalpa
Tonight multitudes of gabled halls
open at the snap of someone’s finger.
Trees • in dense array
images reflected in the middle of the water, instantly thousands of transformations
at night, the universe’s
open-air theater stages a show
Milky Way and meteors both repel and attract one another
in the deep black light a contest
a legend in front of a burning lamp
Next to an ancient lotus pond
There is a group of upright citizens
Daily dwelling in contentment
Looking after millions of visitors
from afar
Receiving hands attentively hanging at the side.
Tracing the source of the native place
Previous starting point in the rainforest.
Future export Arcadia.
World-sea scripture
a corridor of space-time without a bamboo fence
Destination shifting in the ten directions
Secluded mountain deep in the mountains
Color of night painting the darkness blacker still
Someone in the black light spectrum
Musters the wizardly energy of purple lightning and blue frost
Intent on delivering all sentient beings
from ignorance and confusion
Arranging to meet tonight at midnight
Using vast amounts of green bamboo and spring mud
To weave each and every gate of thusness in the
ten-dimensional space of the Tathagatagarbha.
In the Avatamsaka world
The seed mountain called Adana has the function of retaining clouds
Crape myrtle Venus fond of stirring up the motes of dust as numerous as the sands of the Ganges
The Old Woodcutter cum Pine Tree Planter, still facing the wind
The Master of the Wanhong Pavilion pulls out a beam of white light
whereupon all material forms disappear
Tadpoles hiding under lotus leaves bounce on the spindrift
Frogs squatting on top of lotus leaves croak at the moon
Southern lightning fond of accompanying the sound of thunder
Northern aurora likes to show off in the polar regions
A type of yearning entangled in a myth
Modern people don’t know how to spin an old-time top
Flower god whispering in the breeze
Ancient villages, swept into
the vortex, the illusory gate of samsara
Reed catkins covering the mountain, a vast expanse of white wavering in the wind
Who is it who walks alone amongst rivers and lakes, sketching heaven and earth
Sunlight following the golden lens of the wheel of time
Illuminating the whole world.
Driving a sport utility vehicle
taking a rest at night near a peak
Orion winks at me
A silver crane flies up towards the moon riding the horizon
look around for a moment, but its already gone
Mutual memory, tulips and violets
meet again in a dream
A single response of spiritual luminosity illuminates all the realms of the ten directions
A misty day soaked in drizzle still
there are some who clamber up the high peaks
Ancient wall, painted and dyed throughout the year
by sun and moon
circular and arcing aureoles
left on Biejing
Someone’s sinking restless heart, often
hesitating outside a sojourn
The Maiden’s pair of eyes call out to an ancient sentiment
A celestial river just like
A starry scarf covering the vast universe
endlessly extending
The Traveler’s delusions fond of
playing a flute in a dark cave, decibels rising higher and higher ……
An inspired roll of film freezes delusions solid
then surfs on the dark sea of consciousness
developing on another fan-window of the soul
Ah ha! It turns out to be the Photographer-Yogi intercepting time
Photographing in an instant
an intermission in the dance of the earth god.
Dallying, old street and cars
lingering in a dream between thought and memory
Two eyebrows completely occlude the moonlight
An old friend from the native place
with childhood companions dreaming of that call
Beside a white cloud there is a youth
Piloting a paraglider like an eagle in the firmament
Stars traveling by night and resting by day
Dreamers
Why do they always prefer to dissect in advance the images of yesterday
without missing them again
Residual sound and image
As though not extinct, quickly sealing memory
How is it that passionate feeling and curiosity throw out the new dream of tomorrow
Like a reverse waterfall
… flowing upwards towards the sky …
That self in a dream
Originally everywhere
But now no longer here.
Rhythm of thought, linking the past and the future
Mind of the present however
has nothing at all to eat
Pretending, compassion immediately developing
Serious, urging glistening tears brilliant with emotion
Cold and icy grieved and cold
An old love song no more able to express the mind of a newborn baby
Drop of dew in the corner of the eye
falling into someone’s heart-lake, waveless for a thousand years
Completely not knowing that his mind-palace
has been sealed in ice since time immemorial—
Clang! Several soundings without response
Tears shattered into smithereens
Thus have I heard; how can one touch true sentiment …
Great sea with a white whale
Carrying on its back a neatly arranged asterism and gem-spiders of a celestial city
Interwoven into a lovely display.
Walking down the street at dawn, millions of feet on the move
Dancing east, south, west, north; changing position
Sentient beings tie the heart into thousands of knots
throw it onto the tip of an ox horn
then say that there’s no way out …
The dreamer reverses visual images
Time, all the way moving forward
it doesn’t stop out of consideration for a distorted nature
Eagle leaves the nest starts its game in the vast sky
Novice wings not yet strong are not to be relied on
Old bridge of days past
the no. 353 narrow-gauge train once hauled sugarcane, but now is just a relic
In the town a century-old statue of Guanyin
Late autumn each year taken out for a palanquin ride
Whiteness of azure waters swallow all things
Sealed moonlight sketches 53 steps
Only to provoke a storm in a teacup ……
A lamp, light penetrating thru a crack in the wall
entering unable to exit
A tear, compassion and mercy at the center of the sea
sucking in unable to spit out
That childlike mind of past generations
Can only be found
in the world of children’s drawings.
See that white cloud with a big black foot
that orb of the setting sun bashfully hiding in the west
The Shepherd Boy beats out a rhythm and sings out loud
But that big white ox doesn’t harmonize
Instead using a flute to draw in the sand
an amusing self-portrait
so that others can have a chance to see a bit more of him
It’s said that this year, on the third day
Of the tenth lunar month
A meteor shower will appear in Leo, in the Milky Way, like
Brilliant bursts of blue frost pouring down in torrents
Scintillating purple lightning rolling on in waves
On the ground a gust of wind, red, yellow, blue, and green
Eighty-four thousand nets can’t arrest
A wizardly bee □□□□□□□


May 13, 2003
Hall of Fragrant Recitation
==back to top==

Book 77 Northwest Mind Investigation, Originating in Birth of Winter, 2001
—Hidden in the original dream within a sevenfold dream

Mountain as pillow sea as bed
In the night sky
East Coast Mountain Range, heaven’s
salubrious gift to humankind
From Qilan to Wuling
plum blossoms line the road in streams of red
Golden pinnacle of Hongming Mountain
Tapping out a million stars
This morning rescued a cicada
At dusk it resonated with the sound of autumn
Summoning the lovely scenery of Birth of Winter filling the garden
In harmony please sing another song for me.
Wind chime rings out several times
Delivering to the Wind Pavilion
A letter of admonishment sent by a friend
Since then, a quarter century has elapsed
Today, it’s only possible to use the power of memory
to precisely count the number of drizzles that have passed
Fragrance of tea from thirty years ago seems to linger between the teeth
Today’s ancient qin
Each note binding the Youth’s soft sound
Beach sunrise
Daily preserving the Traveler’s footsteps
Sky eagle’s countenance still
steadily observing someone’s mood
Inside an old book repository, opening
an ancient seer’s diary
Dream, floating in from the rear window, then
Hiding in the depths of the subconscious
Following the roots of the celestial wish-fulfilling tree
Genetic sequence interlacing
blossoms and fruit in accordance with each season
Arteries of the leaves with
Randomly strewn stalks
in mutual sensitivity and response
The mysterious password of the universe
Instantly rolled up, suddenly released
One who closely observes will surely perceive
Everywhere, that miraculous medicinal tree.
Shout of lightning—
Wavering stamens like snow-white optical fibers
Each wearing a little yellow cap
Daylight subsides not, sky turns black
Dark clouds turn into a beard hanging down vertically
Magical golden bamboos, each segment draped
in coir-green garments spotted with tears
Lightning surveys the universe, then returns
to the sound of the celestial drum
Who was it who started running at the third shout
Unwittingly crossing the critical point of dreams …
Moonlight making a splash-ink painting
Wind stirs, bamboos creak
it’s the megaphone of the primeval forest
Pair of feet on the move treading on the moonlight without shattering it
Yet the rustling of the dry leaves penetrated the gate of the ear
Center of the sea white sail riding white waves
Blue cliff red setting sun hides in a red roselle
Tongue of sunlight emits a stream of water
night adds the sadness of departure
The last leaf falls, a pair of butterflies suspend a golden hook
up above a beetle on patrol.
Window of a dream
smearing mud around the eye of an old well passionately
cleaning up the doors and windows of an old house thoughtfully
A street stretching out into the distance
There are some who engage in deceit without understanding or listening
The marvelously turning Youth modestly puts away his impetuosity
See that virtual actor on the side of the road transporting guests
in waves,
Having passed thru many a vicissitude, the old sacred tree still bears a tipsy smile
bashfully revealing its innermost feelings to its sweetheart on the other shore
…… murmuring
Breathing suddenly winds rise, clouds surge
Swallowing instantly the tide throws out whitecaps
In the fog, the Maiden prays to heaven
to earth to the gods for protection
On the silvery sea a white sailing ship
Suddenly turned by the wind
The Youth’s gaze illuminates a golden drum
roundly concealing
Knowledge and vision of that red waistcoat of the Traveler off in the distance
Smugly
making a pose in the red sun on the western mountain
Pervasive flooding, bubble floating on the azure water
Mood numinous and excellent, dream state
whirling on the sea of tranquility
An asterism scurries about inside a flower pistil
Under the moonlight, seedlings interlaced slice up the spring wind
Ever shouldering a primordial mirror
yet daily united with ignorance
On Spirit Mountain searching for a verse
Due to a single thought falling into the dusty mundane world
unable to leave behind the body for eight thousand years
Top of a floating banner, mind of awakening goes to sleep
Vain imaginings overturning rivers and seas, disturbing half of heaven
Fond of planting golden and green mottled bamboo
Bamboo fence of the ten directions becomes a secret room
Not knowing that beyond Bieyuan there is a mountain home
Frosty sky drops snow that forms into plum beards
All due to past affections
Crabapple—dense and concentrated
On the fragrant sea tongues send up a thousand waves
Billows chasing waves, submerging the ears
Several flowers in the rain wiping away tears
Inside playing in a scan of the bottom of someone’s heart
Milky Way, wind turns rudder
the Guest drops anchor
Turning wheel
a new wheel
another wheel yet another wheel …
Wind wheel above, disoriented at the crossroads
Book of space storing all phenomena
All because form changes in accordance with consciousness
Sunlight
Flowing thru the holes in the leaves made by insects
Ripples in a network of golden light
See that window of bean curd it’s
a lattice window for glancing upon the world
The Maiden’s scarf woven into
a totem of the bright moon shooting into the Milky Way
A group of shooting stars crosses the horizon from Leo in the east
Two children holding little bears in their left hands and steamed buns in their right hands
swaying across a bridge
Peak of wisdom and gloomy golden spotted bamboo
Extending a golden drum of red flames
The Master Craftsman and the sentient beings of heaven and earth sprinkle down a blackish green
Made vivid with details of fresh green
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten
A million, billion, trillion, quadrillion
All together make a duopanluo
A duopanluo and a duopanluo makes a jiefen
A jiefen and a jiefen makes a pumo ……
Multiplied in this way repeatedly
120 times, makes an unspeakably large number
Suddenly a little girl picks up
a white lotus from a storage shed in the misty mountains
excitedly runs and jumps, saying:
“There is innumerable kala on my lotus;
as fine as a mote of dust.”
Microcosmic it’s matter
But not material
It’s only called material
Just so, inconceivably abstruse capable of
releasing within an eternal
Moment—
Nanometer phenomena of the new century, excellent, clean, unstained
White clouds blossoming
swirling into the little girl's eyebrows
Releasing from her fingertips
all the silvery moonlight.
Upper teeth and lower teeth forming a pier
tightly closed, trembling
holding down the tongues of all people
bursts of sounds, still
teasing from crevices in the ears of lovers
Strong aroma of a pot of Zhaozhou tea
Adventitious wavering afflictions of views and perceptions steeped in the palace of Mara
Yellow, blue, and green flowers
color a vast ancient battlefield
All forms spilling out of a great round mirror
Appearances contacting the eyes up to now
still circulating in the sense faculties covered with dust
Colorful kites floating in the firmament
Spring departs and again returns
The people of the original homeland squeezed inside blankets
Suddenly, winter leaves
The key to the liberation of all sentient beings hidden in
the original dream within a sevenfold dream
If one can convert the eight kinds of elements of perfumed transformation
Then it’s possible from the ninth dimension to see
one’s true self
See that crabapple tree on the jade cliff opening a thousand blossoms to greet the winter
Condor flying over the rivers north and south, then landing
On the pinnacle of an ancient dragon spruce
Towering like a giant • completely still □□□□□□□
Solemn assembly on Spirit Mountain still in session
Richly fragrant Zhaozhou tea
Lush green bamboo leisurely downloads the breeze
Strongly fragrant yellow flowers with gracefully flickering morning dew
Awakened to the reality of flowers, then knowing why I’m come from 3,000 li away
The bodhi-fruit grows by itself, offering this deep mind to innumerable worlds
What a pity that all phenomena are tainted by the outflows
Sad indeed that withered leaves leave the four seasons and secretly move
Red maple garments covering the mountain fall off one by one
fluttering in the whistling wind
Red-feathered birds roll up their sleeves
swirling up into space
Dragon chants burst forth from dead wood, listening
Turns out to be the Shepherd Boy’s flute
affectionately flowing without a rest
Cold, cold, cold ten thousand hectares of dry grain fields calling out
Catching a glimpse
Sky full of butterflies whirling in dance
Vast, vast, vast entryway to the native place remote
Rinsing feet in azure water
Bottomless and boundless, presently wondering where its border lies.
Solemn assembly on Spirit Mountain still in session
Richly fragrant Zhaozhou tea
Lush green bamboo leisurely downloads the breeze
Strongly fragrant yellow flowers with gracefully flickering morning dew
Rumbling of the celestial drum Milky Way extends an arched bridge
Summoning sentient beings’ knowledge and vision of love
fixing the direction of the wind
Thunder loud and clear shattering the bright round water-mirror
Revealing a numinous palm-leaf scripture
Mind as bright as the full moon emitting the 42 letters of the Brahmi script
Image of a net continually appearing and disappearing in space
Withered willow catkins following the thousand-li wind
Mountain valley with a rhyme, why no consonance
Strains of the flute whirl into the reeds
Silver fox fond of that silvery world
Golden sauntering fish fond of that balmy yellow Milky Way
Returning, going, coming—
Misty road home, no longer a trace
Seven stars of the Big Dipper, ancient qin strings, silent
Someone presses a button pouring out
a circulating legend of life—
Already awakened to the reality of flowers
Melting away countless aeons of figments
distorted ideas
The bodhi-fruit grows by itself
A pair of eyes enters the sea water
Drifting waves, floating images.
White snow sees off the autumn rain running into
red maples covering the mountain, then
hibernating in the silvery winter
A star of wisdom drops into the snow sad
All because of forgetting the Visitor’s
Fondness for the
moonset
Sunrise □□□□□□□

May 14, 2003
Hall of Fragrant Recitation
==back to top==

Book 78 Northwest Determining, Originating in Birth of Winter, 2001
—Fantasy island arranged by you, me, him ……

House eaves lined up in close array
Neighbors greeting one another thru doors and windows
Sparse stove smoke reaches a crescendo
Tidy character-suiting fields
Down below, when the river runs clear, huge clouds
Following the heavenly bodies displaying palm-leaf gnostic texts
In an instant, a thought turns around
Etching the scripture of the great trichiliocosm on a mote of dust
Suddenly, “109.5°” appears on a cloud
Eyes of gods and men
With the light of wisdom illuminate
Countless trillions of pure world systems
within the childlike mind
Golden mountains and waters
Already following after the final red sun of Frost Descends
sinking in the west.
Morning, subtle touch of condensed dew on the tip of the tongue
Instantly the taste of Birth of Winter permeates the entire body
Walking on the beach
A patch of confused tracks
Wondering who it was who took a misstep
Wide blue sea
A love story of violets and green roses
seemingly no longer existent.
Hypnotic ideas cause the original vow
To instinctively enter that numinous thought in the sea of consciousness
"Knock! knock ─ knock!"
In a bamboo window on the shore
there is another self watching
True words of the ancestors transmitted by the persistent tide
An ancient parrot
Reciting a mantra passed on from generation to generation, never lost
profound mystery yet for some reason not understood.

Ants carry away a large gecko
A ball pulsates the dance of a million toes
Adults love taking red words, and implanting them
into the blue notebook of a child
Same mountain same valley
Black-eared kite riding the clouds makes a pilgrimage thru the firmament
There is a flower latent in a dream
There is a moon appearing in the water-mirror
In the domain of delusion, there is a spirit weaving a story in the night sky
A phantom city, blue ice cave
enclosing an eternal seed-flame of wisdom
Sentient beings tossed about on the other side of a dream
A crowd of city dwellers in a mass of confusion
Outsiders come and make a mess of things
Ten fingertips can’t buckle down a game of swaying light and shade
Someone beats a gong with the tip of the tongue
sounds a drum with the teeth
Boundless passion performed in a play
fierce fire, shooting out in ten directions
spilling off the stage of dreams
illuminating a child startled by thick dark clouds
—bestowing fearlessness.
Early winter, the last few autumn leaves cast off their red attire
leaving only naked golden veins
Harsh north wind turning all things wan and sallow
Presently the network of withered leaves
Can no longer hold back the descent of Lesser Snow
On the riverbank wavering rows of old fir trees with
twisted red leaves, slowing curling
Serene footpath
Where someone on the other side walks alone
A pair of red lips floats down from a pearl on the forehead
landing on a silver bowstring—
In the snap of a finger follows a meteor rushing towards a vermillion point
why again sealed and opened
New moon again hooks a new worry
Familiar events of the past, one by one surveyed with a heavy heart
South wind regularly composing a lithe and graceful dance tune for the willow catkins
North wind secretly tightly weaves red and white clothes for the snow plums
Dragonfly fond of standing on the duckweed spread over the water
Wind rolls down the mountain, filling the valley and covering the orange oakleaf butterflies
Hurdling over a ridge, jumping over a river
Strolling on the sea
Can you guess where this story comes from?
What was once seen is now past
Let go for the future has yet to arrive
what is glanced at in the present surely exists!
Along the Baihua Stream next to the Wind Pavilion
Several sacred Bali bamboos faded, lie prostrate
mottled tears for clothing
Who was it who had the heart to chop them down?
Blue skies
White clouds densely build a wonderful peak
Up above, a splash-ink painting folds into
a vast dark fog in nine layers
Following dusk a red glow permeates the window fragrant with evening
Cold and sparse branches cannot wait for the migratory birds
The homesick Wanderer goes about singing in the ten directions
a pair of eyes often soaked in red
It’s said that there are meteor showers in Leo
Three thousand visitors in the same mood
hanging in the air, waiting
Cloud spotless white wind bleakly soughs
Rolling up a fallen leaf and lifting it into the sky
Chicks in the nest, ingenuous
Mistakenly believing that yesterday’s orange oakleaf butterflies have reappeared
Distant native place, someone remembering
An old friend’s admonition
entrusted to sentient beings in a dream
deeply praying ─
for the early return of someone wandering in a foreign land
Beach, double lonely footprints
Under the vault of heaven east coast
Someone with head resting on right forearm
imitating the reclining Buddha
Keeping watch all night, waiting for the sunrise
To light up a halo of light □□□□□□□
Moon jumps thru a crack in the clouds
withered maples flee to the silver mountain
A milk-white spring condenses into ice
Blue canopy of the heavens displays an illusory banner
Water in mirror mirror in water
A red sun speeds from east to west
drilling in and out
Never knowing which direction is conclusive
Ruthless glacier, gathering up all the fallen flower petals
playing with so many puzzles
hourglass swirling on the sea of consciousness ……
Halo of flint sparks!
Tongue of the firmament lightly touches the sacred precincts of Biefeng
At the mouth of a valley there is a celestial wish-fulfilling tree
beckoning the cloud-mountains shrouded in fog
Above, an impetuous old monkey dances
Towering twin sal trees, flowers
blooming in the morning, dropping leaves at night
Boulder resting on the side of the Milky Way one side with a green pillow
leaving a deep impression on the Visitor’s multifarious dream realm.
Winter night, the Wanderer
covers himself in the feather quilt made by his mother
incipient evening glow
Fantasy island arranged by you, me, him
and another now playing
Moonlight freely entering and departing thru the candle window
Sunlight in the interstices of heaped up black and white clouds
haltingly
Transmitting a sentiment from gaze to gaze • bosom friend
Wind gap of the chattering minds of sentient beings
meets
The boundless compassion of the bodhisattva
ears attentive to the sound of suffering • knowing
Unsullied moon in the water, fond of admonishing the Child:
“My light may go close to your fingertip, but that doesn’t mean anything!”
Not to be outdone, the Child replies:
“My palms spread out wide
then I pick up a bubble in the sea!”
Then he whacks the moon with his bamboo pole
but the moon doesn’t fall ……
There's a big black butterfly flying in the wind
Sweeping over the sparkling moonlight, faltering and wavering
A group of small sparrows twittering
happily singing below 51 steps
Clumps of bamboo inserted in the peak of the sky
Ushering in clouds dyed in evening red
The Child has no liking for golden-threaded clothes and safflower shoes
He’s only fond of that scarf of the Milky Way and
that cape of silk-cotton stars
□□□□□□□

A train goes from one place to another
How is it that the Wanderer doesn’t want to go home?
Passing over a twinkling spectrum of light
The virtual, seemingly real the real, seemingly illusory
A nostalgic railway lunch box
filled full of thoughts
Present perceptions, moment of confusion
Seven rows of gem trees suddenly move backwards
Matured results, seeds of consciousness infected with secret cause, meet conditions for development
Window of sense objects varying from minute to minute successively turning out
moving images
Childish grin, not knowing
the hardships of the adult world
Level crossing warning lights sounds of a loud whistle
Green peaks and white clouds staggered
Platforms one station after another
Rural and urban in rotation
Starry sky replaces sunset sky
Night halt, the Wanderer’s face hung with sorrow
One pair of eyes with misty pupils
Passengers getting on along the way carrying
three parts loneliness, seven parts desolation
Child unable to sleep for fear of the dark, noisily eats a boxed meal to quench his thirst
Long, long night
Deep and dark cave
Illusions in a pleasant dream guide the Visitor to sleep
The train rumbles on ─ twisting forward
Lantern in a cave lights up a happy red
Oil lamp in the window gives off a melancholy blue
suddenly, diffuse dome of dawn sprinkles down the
Rising sun colliding with
the locomotive emerging from the mouth of a tunnel
Curtain opened, light pours into the compartment
Pacific Ocean of a million points
The Wanderer’s terminus
Downloading at a port with blooming purple and white lotus flowers
Sitting cross-legged mind drifting in a numinous palace on the sea of consciousness
Joining raised palms mind of sincerity, mirror perception
in the august light of everlasting quiescence
Mirror-sea water-sky, thunder and lightning appears
three thousand beams of white light pass over the center of the moon
A friend on that side transmits his voice a thousand li
Intending to recover that numinous symbol discharging the fundamental spirit
Instantly, the tea trees of a thousand mountains transmit
the last buzz of the cicadas in Birth of Winter
All things asleep in the silence of night
On the further shore a red light cuts across the horizon
up above, in the precious hall a solitary chime sounds three times!
But a big mouth swallows a small mouth
Someone’s mind again goes on tour—
A boastful fan speaks softly
A crane fond of chasing clouds and comparing their beauty
Big fire extinguishes a small fire
Seeking the sound, circulating, forgetting compassion.
Waterfall mist
The old man on the ferry plucks an erhu
How is it that the Wanderer can’t find his way out of the maze of dreams
The Traveler can’t find the mooring place
The hometown in a dream echoes on the sea of consciousness
yet memories remain on the shore of last year’s lake
There is a doubt muffled in the chest for decades
today still unresolved
A boy of the past restores the past into the future
Suddenly Grandma of the Night lets loose a dark spell
Instantly dragonflies touch the water
pop the bubbles, calling out—
To the mind, round, bright, unimpeded
Listening to the movement sentimental epiphany
Hearing without seeking the sound
Deep in trance □□□□□□□

May 15, 2003
Hall of Fragrant Recitation
==back to top==

Book 79 Northwest Impulsion, Originating in Lesser Snow, 2001
─Causes and conditions erroneously called coincidence

First day of Lesser Snow, 3:15 pm
winter sun slanting into the crabapple trees on the jade cliffs
laden with new blossoms
Phenomenal world sunshine teeming down by day
recycled by night
Overarching sky Milky Way rolls up all things
Red orb of the sun returns
Cuffs bulging, like
Old frog cheeks
Pellucid wind drills thru the Youth’s patched clothing
Cold day, Hehuan Mountain already a vast expanse of white
It’s said that in the north the snow has already turned into a glacier
And that the mountain roads in the south will soon be closed
The Little Girl says:
“The sky is only one zhang high, so I’m not afraid of the cold.”
An exotic flower has found a foothold in a crevice of a huge reclining boulder
Wondering when those seeds of ignorance fell there
where they came from
The Youth carries a bag of salt up the mountain and puts up with the old woodcutter
Climbs Biefeng again and again
Jade-blue bitter gourd dark green cabbage
Lightly setting off an intimation of the native place
Causes and conditions erroneously called coincidence
Old clock no longer running
Below the silver candle of the fifth watch, not a person to be seen
Someone still in dreamland
using vain imaginings to weave worldly sentiments
A wisp of white beard and a pair of snowy eyebrows
Wearing a coir raincoat and a wide-brimmed bamboo hat
Northwest rain falls from the sky, rivers in spate
Grumpy mountain valleys suddenly inundated
Gurgling sound like a deep jade spring
Stars take burgeoning rivers to be bathing pools
Tonight, all impressions ready to fix a boundary
New moon lurking in the darkness
quietly slipping down the ladder
Outlet of dreams
Where a lapis lazuli vajra-parrot has been pilfered by somebody!
Light • empty mountains emit the chanting of dragons
listening ─ turns out to be old dead wood
a woodpecker has drilled nine holes to let the winds in
Since time immemorial, the mouth and ears have always had tender feelings for each other
Inner self perceives the scent of tea made with a charcoal fire
Water • violin notes
releasing bursts of pine scent
turns out to be hidden in several fairies of the old sacred tree
An ancient red sandalwood still perfuming thoughts deep
Quiet tranquil
empty numinous
Grass • in the mesmerizing world
Someone wants to cultivate the mind of goodness
In a world afflicted by confusion how can
one quickly accomplish something great?
Sky • at the foot of the western mountain there is a cliff covered with moss
a microcosm of an ancient path on the east coast
Sun sets, moon rises attracting the eye
Worldly mind whirling in the gate of arising and ceasing
Colored screens
partition the Visitor’s eyes.
Fire • lips red, teeth white
speaking indiscriminately
Eagle circling, skimming over the surface
flying waterfall of the Milky Way flowing backwards …
combining the waxing and waning crescent moon
with the waxing and waning gibbous moon to form a complete circle
Stone stairway • who was it who cut down that 300-year-old banyan tree
Instead of making a curve in the road
The Traveler stretches out a hand and touches the leafy attire
Without first asking permission from the chief tree spirit.
The Child picks up dry branch from the ground
And rescues an insect fallen into the water
Red • primitive tribes
beat drums and gongs in an ancient cave and light a perfectly round fire
Ten toes rotating in the air current
Deity on night patrol enters into an ecstatic dance
Camellia • a firefly watching over the window of the original dream
A meteor shuttles thru a crack in time
A mottled and peeling old-fashioned box
Full of fragmentary pages from an incomplete diary of someone now gone
suddenly
The wind blows a thousand flowers and leaves
Turning round a windmill
The torch of the sun disintegrates the bright moon in the river
Nightly stitching it back together
Old fishermen, by day catching fish in a bamboo trap
under a moonlit canopy watching a play
Green tree green water
the Traveler lost because of illusion
Misty fog quickly closes and opens
a pair of blooming lips on the eastern sea
Lesser Snow, frost descends on three consecutive days of limpid cold
Reddening the last plumes of that maple tree
Under the moonlight
A dry leaf wraps up the north wind, unmoving
Free and unfettered, crossing over ─ eight peaks and six ridges
one after the other ……
Dimming the radiance and mingling with the dust
Luxuriant secluded valley painting seven caves
Shadow wing riding the light, running wild all over, stubbornly attached
Echo pulling notes in ten directions, leisurely circling the beams seven times
Snow-white waves striking the shore
then flowing back to the tip of the sea ……
each wave vowing to return
On the other side
Golden rays of the setting sun linger on a silvery beach
An ancient species evolving
Since time immemorial • the horseshoe crab
Having played on this island for two centuries
Now, only twenty remain
Who was it who slowly wiped them out?
One road, two feet rushing back and forth
Instantly striding across the decades
Sunlight draws in the Maiden’s tears of affection
wax-sealing them in the clouds
accumulating on the summit of Spirit Mountain
turning into richly fragrant Zhaozhou tea
I and someone else, clearly meeting eye to eye
whence now an about face, no longer meeting
You and him, meeting full of grief ……
Winter’s migratory birds have nowhere to sleep tonight
Young mother carrying little daughter, praying tonight for tomorrow
a beautiful burden ……
Stranger from a strange land, having no idea that
Biefeng still ensconces a new world
Thousand-bannered cypress and pine, daily with a smile
greeting Polaris thru a high-powered telephoto lens
Two oval-shaped lips opening and closing
Endless words following someone’s hemming and hawing
Pair of ears left and right, catching the wind, searching for sound
doing as they please
A boat tossed about by floodwaters
A fragile mind; who will soothe it?


Orange, yellow, blue, green valley facing valley
Thoughts follow the rhythm of the native place in a windy valley
responding to the pulse of the harmonious bodhisattva heart, greatly compassionate
bent on relieving the suffering of all sentient beings
Constellations of the universe vying to drift thru space
Virtual future, blue-green dropping into the Milky Way
on that side where the peach blossoms now bloom!
The Wanderer fond of roaming about, all because
the mind of self-attachment lurks and roams in the sea of consciousness
Screened window
causing all phenomena to continually alternate like so many sky flowers
A pair of eyes ignites in flames
setting off a dazzling flow of fire, form
instantly roaming about in the ten directions, shadow
transforming, uncertain, wandering everywhere.
An ancient temple’s mysterious bell rings for seven days and nights
The sad and dejected Scion Drifter considers an early return home
A sea full of votive lanterns corresponding with
The stars of the Milky Way above
Along the way guiding the birds and beasts
away from the trappers’ snares
Pure sound of the chime, arresting the drifting clouds
calling out to all the gods on high to remain in place
Deep tones of the wooden fish
each note permeating the realm of delusion
each thought of the galloping mind comes to rest
Phantom city manifests
Land of Felicity—

Seven rows of gem trees laid out in a checkerboard pattern
Sounding wondrous tones when stirred by the breeze
Mountain temple, moonlight recording the new century
Sound of the tide in the Chan gate writing down the history of emptiness
Tempestuous waves, each one bowing in worship
Billowing white clouds, each paying homage, turning away from the dust
Eagle sweeps across the heavens leaving behind
a trace of mind—
Just knowing, an epiphany on high
The bodhisattva’s tears of compassion permeate sentient beings
The Buddha’s eyes of kindness gaze upon humanity aimlessly drifting
Non-emptiness brings to completion the jeweled hall within
Adorning immaculate space
Eye spreads out its sensory ability
Hearing leaves behind tainted sound
Yet it’s too late to settle the adventitious defilements already on the move
Descend the mountain, follow the example of Sudhana making 53 visits.
Today is the first day of Lesser Snow
Pure buzz of cicadas, still leisurely
resonating in the gateway of Chan
Sun starts to rise, bell and chime sweep away the mist
Sky clear, numinous earth
Sentient beings reciting the names of the buddhas
Twenty-one golden scissors cutting away
eighty-four thousand delusions and defilements, returning to purity
Sunlight radiating from the fingertips guides
The glorious luster radiating from between the Buddha’s eyebrows, like the orb of the sun on the east coast
Up above eulogies made by the celestial drum
Six types of earthquakes shake the ground
Thirteen-story pagoda vaguely swirling in the clouds
Doorway emitting cheers
Vandana saints • Vandana saints • Vandana saints ……
Spinning flame ignites the eye of an eagle
An elephant king strolls over the earth
Hearing sounds, entering the secret
When the lion roars
All seekers receive fearlessness
Blue planet of fragrant grass
The Traveler’s shadow longer than the sunset
On the summit of Hongming Mountain there is a sacred place with a temple of eternal silent radiance
Felicity Guanyin takes up her willow branch and swirls it about • □□□□□□□


May 16–17, 2003
Hall of Fragrant Recitation
==back to top==

Book 80 Northwest Registering, Originating in Lesser Snow, 2001
─ In hope of weeding out subtle confusion

Let there be a vow
Let my heart be soft, pure, free of contention

One still in training can’t restrain vain imaginings
Emotions sealed up by sorrow and happiness
In the sea of memory
That watery world of the original dream
A thousand sails performing a ballet in continuous succession
Galactic century of boundless life
Boundary upon boundary pumo, pumo
First day of the last lunar month of the first year, light and magic dance
In the tranquil sea there is a bottle-island
Millions of bees in a hubbub
Grapes in an orchard some like emerald or crystal
some like lapis lazuli or cornelian
Gyroscope-like rotation of the nose, sniffing non-stop
Short tongue laps up all the flavors in the ten directions
Black-eared kite surveys ancient ruins, then
flies into—the corridor of dreams
Nightingale avails the moonlight to
Rummage thru the rubble in search of the fruit of life
tripping on a wavering suspension bridge
The Photographer-Yogi from the corner of his eye catches a glimpse
of evening red in a mid-air
freeze frame.
Seven-layered wisteria surrounds the bathing pool of the gods
A golden drum suspended in a windswept mountain valley
Sentient beings have a type of inconceivable
intuitive force, dancing in
An omnipresent place deep within the six senses
Like lightning or dew • not remaining for even a moment
Whatever is declared to be true, is not true
Only when it reaches not true, is it is true
All things in the universe shine by virtue of the sun
Dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows all run in front
Sun sets and disappears
For the lamp projects its light
Whatever is declared to be false, is not false
Only when it reaches not false, is it false
Essence of consciousness
thoughts flowing, drops of water combined with the wind
There is a pure-white silvery crane set out from the sea of awakening to truth
A thousand little flowers say:
“There is a wall magically transforming
Sometimes red, sometimes white; sometimes high, sometimes low
Sometimes raising its head to see what appear to be clouds in a footrace;
Sometimes looking down at what appears to be bashful mimosa.”
when an aircraft is about to land, a ringing in the ears hinders hearing
afterwards, thousands of flowers cheer:
"All sounds are back!"
See that endless blue sky full of white clouds
sheltering the earth and its stunning flower sea
Visual impressions of the day return to
gorgeous fantasy images in the night
Primordial flames scorch red the Youth’s face and ears
Silent moonlight looks askance at a grumpy child
Mountain walks mountain, you ring your own sensory objects
Sea moves sea, I spin my own delusions
Scriptures in a cremation stupa
Frequently appear in fairy tales
Mantra mixed with faith
Mystical northern lights driving wind sails in the sky
Lover stirring up emotion to seal a connection
exchanging anxiety for dejection, shouting himself hoarse
A flute without holes plays the beguiling song of the five aggregates permeating the universe
Celestial drum urgently beaten in the ten directions
Time flees into a secret room containing a pendulum
Accompanying that ticking mantra ever fond of defilement
Cogs of time turning • in reverse
─dream of the past flowing backwards
appearing in the present.
The Master of the Baihua Pavilion pitches a tent
in the maze of life waiting
for that anxious and miserable sentient being
Avatamsaka World, a drop of dew falls from a branch
shattering the moon in the water rippling outward
dispelling chaos in the center of the sky ……
A single candle on the primordial sea of aeons
lights up a millennial dark room
Wind, still can’t blow off the dust of affection clinging to the body
Clambering upon conditions beckons to my heart
Vain imaginings call out to quiescence
Thusness unable to look after self-nature, can’t help but to set out
Joy and loneliness entwined around time
Passion and solitude seep into the dream soul
Swirling fountain; child of the past arriving in the present, going somewhere
How to convert the energy of the sea of consciousness into today
none going back to the past—
past abides by itself in the past
future abides by itself in the future
past, can’t return
future, can’t come before its time
Present thought
Exists only in the present moment
It’s an aeon divided into three times
It’s time a single thought broadly observing innumerable aeons.
Meteor, momentary flash followed by cessation
Vision fond of ambient light but only when made translucent
Footsteps of the moonlight trampling on the dark night
Touching off the Wanderer’s homesick tears
Infecting the deities with a sad expression
Drifting clouds following
the master of the natural world comes to the top of the Traveler’s tree to save him
The Child picking olives below an Indian almond tree in the country
One of the leaves of which has been eaten by the insects into the shape of a bird
standing erect on a branch, scaring off the praying mantis
Rosy clouds of dawn trying on a thousand different enchanting costumes
Depicting the emotional tone of the evening sky
Chief deity of the night out on tour, tonight
a chance encounter with a meteor shower in Leo
Turning into a treasure trove dispensing
Miraculous gems, subtle
Inexhaustible
as numerous as the sands of the Ganges
Those who get one of them, become a partner of Spirit Mountain
in the world of perfect enlightenment, seeing the essential nature
Those who get two of them, fall into delusion
A cloth sack of heaven and earth
full of swans dancing a ballet
Those who grasp three, come down with distorted views
The dreams of worldlings
Longer than the shadow of a tall mountain
stretched out by the slanting rays of the setting sun.
Mountain walks mountain, you ring your own sensory objects
Sea moves sea, I spin my own delusions
Clouds driving clouds, he is fond of his united perfumed transformations
Moon transporting moon, someone pitying someone’s
great function, without precedent, going with the flow, untainted
There is a thousand-year-old crane observing
the Old Woodcutter, all day greeting the clouds and meeting the breeze
There is a pink flower fallen on a blue cliff
there is a bird holding a flower in its beak disappearing on the horizon
Below a pine the Child takes a nap
caught unawares when a pine cone drops on the tip of his nose
A pair of wide-brimmed hats and coir rain capes ward off the silvery white snow
A mock sun brings to a halt the great river of early winter
Deep well of fantasy fond of singing
gurgling sound inexhaustible …
Sadness and joy, becoming a tap dance in two steps
Memories past in the eyes of dusk
turning over the countdown
Future dream in daylight each thought
an overlapping flame …
Illusion of the present, current state of mind
flashing with the speed of lightning
One who sees into his essential nature, receives innumerable sense impressions
and remits the mark of thusness of one type
So as to weed out subtle confusion.
See, all those thought-seeds
pouring down from above like a waterfall
Underground ancient roots entwined around a hidden green treasure
Sunflowers quietly erase the shadow of the sun
Allowing white clouds to pass
Mimosas lightly brush off the dust placing palms together
entreating Polaris to summon the new moon
Round numinous water-mirror, floating images of a thousand waves
Flashing red flag
Water-sky reflecting with a blue tint
Whirling spring churning out a sonorous jingle
bubbles reflecting the red glow of dusk
World of sentient beings, worldlings
day and night in vast confusion
Seven rows of gem trees attracting
moonlight and the Traveler
Light breeze sends down flowers, nimbly
wiping off the dust left in front of the lamp by the Visitor
Ancient rural village portrait
a beautiful depiction of the life of the original inhabitants─
field upon field of harvested paddy
granary upon granary
snow-white fragrant rice on wooden tables
eating one bowl after the next …
Clouds thick with a slight seam revealing a sliver of sky
Light in front of the window where the slender Maiden quietly plants flowers
The Master of the Wanhong Pavilion
All the same telling his aspirations to everyone under the sky
All the Visitor’s doubts still
stored away in an unfamiliar journey
Realm of vain imaginings
my mind full of non-stop thoughts, following that
wave of desire seeking high and low
clueless as to why.
Light spectrum of passion pulling in sense objects
Surging waves of consciousness
A mysterious moon pulls the tide, fooling with
The Saha world, a hair, drop of water, a grain of sand, a mote of dust.
Cushu Pavilion on the sea of awakening to truth
Hejing Pavilion of the primary luminosity of the essence of consciousness
Guest comes, host of the pavilion gives him the once over
Guest begins to ask for directions
Host says: "Hey!"
Beyond the sky a red glow beckons
Blue falls putting away its bright spear out of consideration for sentient beings
Who is it who is able to raise an idea
No one cares for the shadow and light of the palace of Mara
Who is the first to enter the afflicted world of the five turbidities
All day looking around at fallen flowers
not to be swept away by bamboo shadows …
Sunset in the sun hoping to beat the golden drum
Originally expecting to be smilingly elated
But accidentally drinking three sounds
Directly falling … wondering in which aeon awakening will come.
In a secret room a magic lamp gives off a faint cold light
Looking as if something has been seen
Form abides by itself in form
World sea supports a dew collector in the sky
overflowing.
Thoroughfare travelers come and go
light and shadow, bright and dark
Side and shore, shore and side
Sentiment falls into billowing waves buffeted by the wind
Traveling a thousand li, who is it who moves?
Contact with the eye leaves flying in the sky
Who is it who can see each one as still as a great bell
Flowers don’t understand language, yet the spirit tree howls
the more that mouth speaks, the narrower it gets
Moon, lights up a silver candle
There is a star of wisdom that takes a leisurely stroll in the sea of illusion, and then
mounts the summit of Biefeng
Crises one after another, behold
Grass deep deep deep
Fog, thick and misty
White-forehead tiger hiding therein
Yet the muddle-headed Traveler eager to sleep
Stumbles upon it
□□□□□□□ Hey!

May 17–18, 2003
Hall of Fragrant Recitation
==back to top==

Book 81 Northwest Essence of the Life-continuum, Originating in Greater Snow, 2001
─One of the five delights of childhood

Part one‧I love graffiti

I am the sun
I love sketching
I am a black cloud
I love to scrawl graffiti

Rising early in the morning
I first draw the mountains and then draw the plains
After dusk
I love painting those fisherman fishing
When there are no moon or stars at night
I scrawl graffiti
When the sound of a tempest rises in all directions
I scrawl graffiti
And when heaven is in a bad mood
I scrawl graffiti.
Sunlight arrives, time for an excursion
Each footprint higher than the sky
Halting in the great sea catching sight of
The legendary six-tusked white elephant
Facing the whistling wind
Black cloud emerges from a cave and goes on tour
Riding the mythical bird Feilian
Everywhere drawing a whirlpool
Drawing in everything in the universe
Like a large black rhino
Overturning the lapis lazuli palace of the dragon king

Sun plumes sketching a wondrously high peak
Yellow white blue green, a mountain of a different color on each side
Brush-swept ridges and peaks
Vivid colors, affectionate light and shadow
Graffiti in the form of ink-splash paintings
From a carbon bow of the dark moon, shooting off
Ebony arrows
One hundred billion stars disappear from the night sky
Relentless lightning leaves behind idle moments of white
A stretch of earth lacquered stern
Only fireflies remain
Summoning the deity of the north.
My foot treads of the mist
Sketching that misty forest
I penetrate the quiet forest
Drawing a thousand gorgeous scenes
My tail feathers pull the grass taller
Turning them into an emerald green landscape painting
I sprinkle ink
Dyeing black a game in a dream
Making it unfathomable
I paint day into night
I leave behind trundling rain waters to soak the ground
Making it more fertile
Praying for rain, celestial nymphs dance for me.

I am the sun
I love sketching
I am a black cloud
I love to scrawl graffiti

Part 2‧galactic scarves

An old banyan tree dreamed for a month
That it grew into the firmament
Surpassing the limit of the white clouds
So that the eagles all had to fly underneath it
When the old banyan tree came to the gate of the southern sky
And saw a play in action
The story of the seven fairy maidens
Then it knew that Vega / the Weaver Girl in the east of the Milky Way
and Altair / the Cowherd in the west of the Milky Way
Meet once a year on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month.

Springtime a frog tells the Little Girl that
There is a treasure in the autumn sky
The Little Girl waits
Summer Solstice cicadas earnestly inform the Little Girl that
In the night sky this autumn
There will be a beautiful legend
The Little Girl waits …
After Cold Dew
The Westerly Wind reveals to the Little Girl the secret of the universe
Under the starry sky of Frost Descends
In a secret garden
With a half-moon pond
The exceedingly rare galactic scarf will appear
It’s said to be arranged amongst one hundred billion fixed stars of all sizes
And woven of countless nebulous clusters.

Night draped on the shoulders
Are seen floating silvery waves of shining starlight
Cosmic space-time and the galactic vault of heaven project their images therein
By day it transforms into a rainbow
Straddling the great river of growth
Wherever it goes a light breeze stirs the sounds of nature
Ancient verses greet the moon
Like a silvery feather floating out of a sleeve
Dancing above mountains and rivers.

When the Little Girl has it
At night she fears not the cold
By day she fears not the heat
Cool in summer and warm in winter
It also provides a remarkably subtle shelter from the wind and rain.
Part three‧watermelon sister

It’s said that there was no electricity in the agricultural villages of old
Today all of the adults are outside working
Still at home, only the elder sister looking after her younger sister
Tonight there is a temple fair in the village on the other side of the mountain
Featuring an outdoor stage troupe
The elder sister anxiously coaxes the younger sister to sleep
Groping in the darkness to finish the chores
For the time is getting late.

Rushing to the bedroom
She picks up her little sister, and rushes outside
Only to trip and fall while passing thru a watermelon field
Picking up her bundle from the sandy ground
She hurries on towards the sound of the gong signaling the opening scene
At the conclusion of the spellbinding performance
The director invites everyone back for the following night’s show
Whereupon the elder sister finally comes to her senses
Delighted that her little sister has all along remained so quiet wrapped inside her quilt
She opens the quilt
Oh no ─ incredible
Little sister is gone!
What she’s been carrying is a large watermelon.

With fast feet the elder sister
Races back to the watermelon field next to the river
But can’t find her little sister anywhere
Just the pillow cover from her mother’s bed
The elder sister tearfully rushes back home
The little sister wakes up in the middle of the night
Giggling and laughing on the bed.
Part four ‧ Phoenix Girl and the Chinese parasol tree

In a secluded valley deep in the mountains there is an old Chinese parasol tree
During its lifetime passed over by a billion clouds
Hosted the nests of ten thousand pairs of birds
Seen a full thousand years of waterfalls entering the river
Daily looking forward to the sunlight
gently massaging its feet
Witnessing the departure of spring and the arrival of fall
Blossoms dropping and returning
With the eternal Milky Way above.

Knowing that its days are numbered
It considered what will be its fate
By chance the Child and the Master Craftsman came by
And turned it into a magical instrument delighting the gods
For a century afterwards it was poked and plucked by many a musician
Without once making a sound
Then one day it received a visit from the Youth skilled in music
Who used his bamboo flute to guide the wind into that pipa
That night in a dream
The legendary white phoenix
Flew in from the land of the dark blue sea
And quietly permeated the numinous space of the parasol tree pipa—

Afterwards that lonely vessel
Became animated
Previously silent when plucked
Today, the Maiden uses the pulse of her breath to tune it
Photosensitive fingerprints in harmony with her heart
The pipa harbors a deity, each sound a message sent to the Master Craftsman
Just like the ululation of the kalavinka bird
When the Maiden presses it moonlight comes flowing out
Dragons roar and a hundred flowers drop from the sky
Harmonious notes conveyed to a bosom friend who knows the sound.

Thus the Chinese parasol tree ‧ the Phoenix Maiden, and the pipa
Have been woven into a beautiful legend □□□□□□□
Part five‧Dew Coursing in Heaven

A person is bigger than a grain of sand, but smaller than a house
A house is bigger than a chair, but smaller than a mountain
A mountain is bigger than a tree, but smaller than an ocean
An ocean is bigger than an island, but smaller than heaven
Heaven is bigger than earth, but smaller than the mind.

Clouds chase the wind, rain waits to be incarnated
Love and hate in the primordial sea of consciousness
In a tug of war ─ tug of war!
Light and shadow on a stone sculpture vying for pictures
compassionate heart swallowed by greedy notions
The Scion Drifter a lifetime of searching for his father
Can’t erase from his dreams
those layers of fog obscuring vast mountain pathways
Two peaks form a valley
Take the bamboo bridge connecting the two sides
Streams surging downwind splashing reversing
The Little Girl happily says:
"Mom, I'm your little dear one!"
Dew coursing in heaven conscience doesn’t press a button because of you
Gems gush up from the ground but numinous awakening can be controlled by someone
On two mountain tops there appears a single red cloud
A region deep and serene, concealing myriads of feeling
The Youth’s optic nerve is infected with strange colors.
5 combined with 5 is not 10, but rather is called 9
4 combined with 4 is not 8, but rather is called 9
Palm combined with palm join and look
Application‧of regressive mathematical operations in an alternative space
Draw out reduce by one
Add in increase by one
Have a try at a type of secret factor of maturing and falling away
a different form of addition and subtraction based on embedding and deletion
In this way a kind of miracle occurs
Within the intersecting signals of the eye and ear
There appears
A type of interference wave transcending images and sounds
It’s neither a straight line nor a curved movement
It’s neither a spiral nor a return to the source
It’s forgetting about returning to zero.

The drama of humanity is not as realistic as the script of the animal kingdom
The script of the animal kingdom is not as benevolent as the plot of the plant kingdom
However, the drama of humanity
is sometimes full of wisdom and beauty
The Youth closes the six sense gates
Listening inwardly, to the sound of a thousand cicadas
all the while watching over the green bamboo
Spring was whisked away by a gust of easterly wind
Summer won’t come to a halt for the sake of the southerly wind
Autumn has already quietly departed in the footsteps of the dew
A child is at home learning how to eat with chopsticks
After growing up and going abroad, learning how to use a knife and fork.

A 90-year-old man in the mountains has a cow
His young grandson has e-mail by his side
Winter hidden under the silver moonlight
Passed by before anyone noticed □□□□□□□


May 18–19, 2003
Hall of Fragrant Recitation
==back to top==