The Way doesn't rise or fall

.

 

19

The Way doesn't rise or fall

those who are blind look for an advantage

sages and wise men escape from this world

where counterfeit truth prevails

rein in your senses don't indulge them

be ever mindful and nothing else

lose your body beneath a patched robe

and say good-bye to a thousand rebirths

 

 

21

A life lasts one hundred years

but which of us gets them all

precarious as a teetering thatched hut

or a leaking boat in a storm

mediocre monks are pathetic

would-be masters are sadder still

the world's empty ways aren't what they were

some days I shut my old gate tight

 

 

22

Green mist red clouds a trail through bamboo

and a hut where quiet lasts

just let go and worries end

stop to think and the mind reappears

an unpolished mirror holds millions of shapes

a bell doesn't ring until it is rung

our original nature is the real buddha

nothing solid or empty nothing old or new

 

 

23

A monk in the wild sits quiet and relaxed 

he survives all year on what karma brings

bamboo and yellow flowers occupy his thoughts

white clouds and streams simplify his life

he doesn't mistake a rock for a tiger on a hill

or the image of a bow for a snake in a bowl

in the woods he knows nothing of the world's affairs

at sunset he watches the crows return

 

 

 

~ Stonehouse

from "The Zen Works of Stonehouse"

Book One: Mountain Poems

translated by Red Pine

.

.

fantasies fade only in stillness

.

25

.

I chose high cliffs far from town

the sound of tall grass a half-open gate

where's an old pauper who isn't deferential

or a rich man who isn't vain

emergency loans don't come without strings

fantasies fade only in stillness

clouds too say mountains are better

returning at night they ease the solitude

.

27

.

Who enters this gate and studies this teaching

has to be thorough and push to the end

empty the body and reason remains

forget the mind and the world disappears

cloud-covered trees form a landscape of white

swallowing the sun the mountain turns red

the flag moves or is it the wind

it isn't the wind or the flag

.

28

.

A friend of seclusion arrives at my gate 

we greet and pardon our lack of decorum

a white mane gathered in back

a monk's robe worn untied

embers of leaves at the end of the night

howl of a gibbon announcing the dawn

sitting on cushion wrapped in quilts

words forgotten finally we meet

.

 

 

 .

~ Stonehouse

from The Zen Works of Stonehouse

Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit

translated by Red Pine

.

dark pines and strange rocks remain unknown to those who look for mind with mind

 

 

41

 

The ancients entered mountains in search of the Way

their daily practice revolved around their bodies

they tied heavy stones to their waists to hull rice

they carried their hoes in the rain to plant pines

it goes without saying they moved dirt and rocks

and never stopped hauling firewood and water

the slackers who wear a robe to get food

don't hang around an old Zen monk

 

42

 

Everything's growth depends on old roots

why argue about who's tall or short

the road to success is a tunnel of fire

the door to buddhahood is a wall of ice

my hut sits alone among brambles and weeds

the cloudy Isle of Penglai is a crane's universe

my hair has turned white in the cliffs and gorges

how often have I leaned on a fence rail till dark

 

43

 

I moved to the cliffs in order to practice

I didn't need others to judge my faults

when natures are simple old habits end

when thoughts are pure awareness arises

planting pines and weeding have strengthened my body

reading sutras and sewing have sharpened my sight

the world's anomalies are funny indeed

the refugees of Ch'in are called hermits too

.

44

 

I searched creation without success 

by chance I found this forested peak

my thatched hut pokes through clouds and sky

the moss-slick trail cuts through bamboo

favor and shame arouse the ambitious

I grow old on the stillness of Zen

dark pines and strange rocks remain unknown

to those who look for mind with mind

 

 

 

 

~ Stonehouse
translated by Red Pine

art by Wang Chien

.

note:

43.  In his Peach Blossom Spring, T'ao Yuan-ming tells the story of a group of people fleeing the oppressive rule of the Ch'in dynasty, which unified China in 221 BC.  In the course of their flight, these refugees discovered a hidden valley.  When a fisherman stumbled onto their sanctuary several hundred years later, he found a peaceful farming community.  Eventually the fisherman returned to his own village and told others about his discovery.  But the refugees obliterated the traces he left to mark his route, and their valley was never found again.

 

 

 

.

below high cliffs - ten poems

1

Below high cliffs

I slash and I burn

there's vegetables and grain

to boil and steam

to satisfy the present

to brighten old age

looking at a tree in the yard

I count its falls and springs

2

Below high cliffs 

my companions are the ancients

having reached the source

here I rest

others of more mystic persuasion 

study koans to death

wait beside stumps for rabbits

notch boats to find lost swords

3

Below high cliffs

all day I see plants

no sign of people

yellow leaves in the wind

birds call at dusk from the valley

the mountain moon rises at night

a crane takes flight from a pine

and showers my robe with dew

4

Below high cliffs

tigers and snakes are my neighbors

once I forgot my mind

their natures suddenly became tame

people born in this world

all have something divine

mouths of teeth heads of hair

why can't they be kind

5

Below high cliffs

unaware of the source

wherever you turn is karma

chaos and confusion

in order to see the truth

look beyond your senses

it's always been this way

the spring flows all around you

6

Below high cliffs

serene in solitude

not visited by time

the mind creates the world

the window holds a setting moon

the stove contains a dying fire

pity the sleeping man

startled from his butterfly dream

7

Below high cliffs

a white-haired old man

his robe with no hem 

his pants with no lets

practicing zazen at night

working his fields by day

herein lies the Path

where else could it be

8

Below high cliffs

I face a thousand mountains

one sense finds the source

all six relax

white clouds drift

green water ripples

beyond movement and stillness

there's another world

9

Below high cliffs

I don't dress up by body

I eat roots and wear plants

my socks are hemp my shoes are sedge

dense bamboo shades my windows

thick moss covers the steps in front

desires die in the quiet

cares disappear it's so still

10

Below high cliffs

you eat and sleep your fill

indulge desire and lethargy

idle away the months and years

until old age and illness arrive

and a thousand pains afflict you

digging a well when you're thirsty

you endure heat in vain

~ Stonehouse

from: Book Two Gathas, "The Zen Works of Stonehouse"

by Red Pine

art by Huang Kung-wang

.

.

day after day I let things go

.

33

Day after day I let things go

why worry about tomorrow today

the four afflictions are hard to predict

wealth and honor don't last

lakeside villas are swallowed by vines

streamside trails disappear into weeds

such things are easy for all to see

but no one is willing to look

34

A white-haired monk afflicted with age 

living under thatch year after year

I've exhausted my life on simple passions

my movements all spring from the sacred mind

when birds don't come the mountain is quiet

ten thousand pines keep it dark green

from the kalpa of nothingness it's clear

a miraculous light still shines.

35

What can you say about profit and fame

to a solitary untroubled mountain monk

weeds of delusion don't grow in the mind 

where flowers of wisdom bloom

bamboo shoots and fiddleheads blanket the slopes

dust seldom falls on moss-covered ground

I was over thirty when I first arrived

how many sunsets have turned my windows red

36

I was a Zen monk who didn't know Zen

so I chose the woods for the years I had left

a patched robe over my body

braided bamboo around my waist

mountain shade and stream light explain the Patriarch's meaning

flower smiles and bird songs reveal the hidden key

sometimes I sit on flat- topped rocks

cloudfree afternoons once a month

~ Stonehouse

translated by Red Pine

art by Huang Kung-wang (1269-1354)

Stonehouse was born in 1272 in the town of Changshu, not far from where the Yantze empties into the East China Sea.  He took his name from a cave at the edge of town.  The cave was on Yushan, which was named for Yu Chung-wei, whose nephew founded the Chou dynasty in North China around 1100 BC.  Yushan is also known for its pine trees, its rock formations, and its springs, in particular a spring that flows out of a cave as big as a house.  Locals call the cave Shihwutung, or "Stonehouse Cave."

from the introduction to "The Zen Works of Stonehouse"

by Red Pine (Bill Porter)

may as well let things go

29

A hundred years flash by

does anyone think this through

if what you're doing isn't clear

the edge between life and death is sheer

stitches on a monk's robe are a loving wife's tears

grains of sweet rice are an old farmer's fat

don't think charity has no reward

every seed bears fruit in time

30

Cares disappeared when I entered the mountains

serene at heart I let the world go

before my door the shade fades in fall

the spring roars in back after a rain

I offer tea and vegetables to a visiting farmer

to a neighbor monk I give chrysanthemums in a pot from town

the jaded life of the gentry

can't match a mountain monk's with scenes like these

31

This body's lifetime is like a bubble's

may as well let things go

plans and events seldom agree

who can step back doesn't worry

we blossom and fade like flowers

we gather and part like clouds

earthly thoughts I forgot long ago

withering away on a mountain peak

32

I've never treasured thoughts of success

I welcome old age and enjoy being free

grass shoes a bamboo staff the last month of spring

paper curtains plum blossoms daybreak dreams

eternal life and buddhahood are utter illusions

freedom from worry and care is the practice

last night the howling pine wind spoke

this is something the deaf can't hear

~ Stonehouse

translated by Red Pine

art by Huang Kung-wang a contemporary of 

Stonehouse who lived in the same area