Visiting Mount Song
By Liu Shaoxu
The He and Luo rivers present heavenly omens,
Mount Song and Qiao harmonize with the earth's spiritual energy.
Clouds connect to the bright sun,
Embracing ten thousand green peaks in response.
The lodging in the middle serves as a fire dwelling,
The regional commandery is a constellation.
The high official reveres the sacrificial rites,
The jasper palace is solemn in its form.
Generations present jade tablets,
Layered peaks form a screen.
The jade casket opens its treasures,
Leading to the Zhou domain.
A guest plays a pipe on the ridge,
A monk stays at the wall-gazing pavilion.
Cranes can pull the immortal's chariot,
Stones can also expound the sutras.
The jade well contains immortal fluid,
The golden pot pours into the pure vase.
Cinnabar becomes manifest through praise,
The blue bird stops at the right time.
The gourds of Ji and Ying leave no trace,
The cave of Fuqiu is naturally secluded.
The cypress is still called a Han general,
The pagoda tree is even older than the Qin court.
The propagation of the Dharma once left a gatha,
The Feng and Shan sacrifices were inscribed long ago.
Rainbow skirts pass at dawn,
The clear chanting is heard deep in the night.
The evening mist sings with the maple leaves,
The morning glow covers the tuckahoe.
The misty haze is faint in the clear sky,
The rain of flowers is dim in the daytime.
The moon is cold in the empty hall's alms bowl,
The wind carries the sound of the high pavilion's bell.
Ten years of thoughts beyond the dust,
A hundred years of tranquility in stillness.
Suddenly surpassing the three thousand realms,
Leisurely, the small four seas.
The vastness of the sea is truly immense,
Floating like duckweed.
Discussing Chan at Shaolin
By Xu Kuoran
The spiritual platform has a realm of silence,
The land and sea have lost the true interpretation.
Without understanding the three vehicles of the Dharma,
How can one know the non-dual Chan?
The great emptiness is originally different,
How can a withered tree be without cause?
Life and death are absurd in the profound mystery,
Emptiness is transmitted on paper.
In what way can one distinguish the relative,
Everywhere one can distinguish the root and origin.
Standing in the middle, there is no reliance,
The true eternal can be returned to.
If Gautama were to be reborn,
His words would not be outside of this.
Visiting Shaolin Temple on Mount Song
By Tang Shunzhi
The pure land is on the dragon cliff,
The incense platform is by the Vulture Peak.
The mountain was opened by the giant spirit,
The teaching was transmitted by the Dharma king.
The two chambers surround the monastery,
The three flowers connect to the Buddhist feast.
This is the central land,
Beyond the pillars are the heavens.
The overlapping peaks are lower than Heng and Dai,
The returning carriage pours into the ravine.
Cloud-like garments are draped over the miscellaneous trees,
Rainbow shadows cross the flying spring.
The windows are all green walls,
The banks are lined with white lotuses.
Divine apes attend the lectures,
Tame pigeons circle the smoke.
The moon of wisdom is clearer in autumn,
The pearl of mud is fresher in the evening.
The valley resounds with the bell,
The pool competes with the mirror in roundness.
Ten thousand kalpas end in illusion,
Three lives are all due to karma.
I wish to borrow the power of gold,
To illuminate the river of delusion.
Later Visit to Shaolin and Presented to Dao Gong
By Gao Chu
All mountains converge on Mount Shaoshi,
The ancient temple has a deep platform.
The sun shines on the three-flowered spring,
Flying to the five incense shrine.
The lamp hangs in the mist,
The pagoda is half low and half high.
The spirits of tuckahoe and atractylodes have been here for a long time,
The pines and firs have long been nurtured by rain and dew.
The mud inscription is half-visible,
The Buddhist bell rings faintly.
The stone wall is still there,
The golden fields of other generations are desolate.
The meaning of the holy truth for a thousand autumns,
The white hair light shines for ten thousand zhang.
The vines are all spread in spring,
The clouds and rosy clouds are more ashen in the distance.
Batuo inspired the patrons,
Huiyuan was famous for his lotus field.
The three laughs are gone from here,
How can we forget our fellow travelers?
The tame birds seem to understand speech,
The submissive tiger wants to be a general.
I pity the peach and willow trees even more,
They are wildly unrestrained in the wind.
A Gift to Dao Gong at Shaolin Temple
By Fu Mei
Receiving the robe and ascending the Dharma seat,
Leaning on his staff on the peak of Song.
The lineage derives from Caoxi,
The person is met from the ridge of Yue.
Sweet dew descends from the green forest,
The blue-green temple has a peak of blue clouds.
The lamp continues, its light always bright,
The incense is added, its fragrance grows stronger.
Pigeons enter the eaves at first peep,
The alms bowl once hid a dragon.
Listening to the lecture, the star carriage is delayed,
Practicing Chan, the night bell passes.
The one vehicle returns to the pure karma,
Half a gatha opens the dusty chest.
As pure as the snow on Mount Ji,
As gaunt as the pine on Mount Taishi.
After the wind has settled,
The moon is bright, how can it be an obstacle?
The red gate is entered at the appointed time,
The white society follows.
The master should return to the true fruit,
I also respect the southern school.
Every time I reach a crossroad,
I see tiger tracks by the stream.
Viewing the Painting of Twelve Spirit-Funguses at Shaolin Temple
By Mu Guangyin
The auspicious place is full of spiritual energy,
Its roots are not ordinary.
The thousand-year-old white king's stele,
The twelve purple fungus rooms.
Brilliant coral color,
Shining light of the treasure tree.
The wind moves the three auspicious plants,
The clouds protect the nine long stalks.
The hermit's Shangshan song,
The immortal's Yinghai imitation.
Viewing this painting at this moment,
I imagine the auspiciousness of a prosperous age.
Staying Overnight at Shaolin, Presented to Elder Ting
By Shan Xizhi
I came to the temple in the evening to see the mountains,
Following the path into the deep forest.
I admire the spacious lotus temple,
The dragon palace is tall and dense.
The pagoda bell transmits the Sanskrit words,
The pine wind sounds like the tide.
The clouds rise, a thousand cliffs turn white,
The spring flows, ten thousand ravines are deep.
The heavenly wind blows through the quiet courtyard,
The treasure moon is imprinted on the Chan heart.
Green flashes from the mountain peeking through the door,
Golden light from the pavilion reflects on the peak.
Moss buries the ancient stele inscription,
Flowers cover the stone pillar in shadow.
I feel more and more the return to the true source,
How can I be tainted by worldly dust?
I long for the beautiful scenery from afar,
I am happy to find this secluded place by chance.
I borrow a cassock to rest in Chan stillness,
I pick a flower and begin to smile and chant.
I send a message to the guests of the teaching,
I hope we can visit this fairy land together.
Discussing Chan on a Moonlit Night at Shaolin Temple
By Wang Shizhen
Shaoshi, Shaolin Temple,
In which year was it in the Central Sacred Mountain?
Man and heaven are north and south,
My way is from west to east.
The vines are beautiful, the three flowers are old,
The lamp is transmitted, the six leaves are red.
I come to seek the meaning of the patriarch,
The master is old and invigorates the school's style.
I step into the cover of the mountain clouds,
I sit deep in the empty mountain moon.
Why ask about the secret seal?
One can only realize the original sameness.
The pillow is clear, there is no bridge,
Going without end.
I see Wang Yishao residing here,
His principles are like those of Zhi Gong.
Visiting Shaolin Temple
By Geng Jie
The blue-green garden is free of fine dust,
I stayed for a few nights and lingered.
The Five Bvreast peaks are all beautiful,
The three magnificent flowers are all in bloom.
The old pine is home to a white crane,
The lonely stone is clothed in green moss.
The monk's chime comes from the forest,
The mountain clouds enter the temple.
The cliffs and ravines are in front of the window,
The stream wind returns to the near bank.
The Vairocana Pavilion is winding,
The Sweet Dew Terrace.
The steles are all from the Han and Wei dynasties,
The guests are all from Zou and Mei.
The setting sun is still cold,
The remaining bell rings again in the evening.
When can I leave the worldly cares,
And build a hut on the side of the mountain?
Visiting Shaolin Temple with Friends Three Days after the Lantern Festival
By Shi Yizan
The temple was first founded for translating sutras,
The lamp was first hung for wall-gazing.
Cutting off an arm to seek a teacher shows earnestness,
Pacifying the mind to expound the teaching is vast.
The three magnificent flowers are a strange spiritual realm,
The two (???-桂) a subtle Buddhist word.
One lineage is remotely sealed,
Six schools arose from here.
Inspecting the steles, I know the old traces,
Gazing at the statues, I recognize the eminent monks.
Who understands the patriarch's meaning today?
The family style has long been lacking.
The demonic skill of martial arts is gradually ceasing,
When was the Chan discipline ever lectured?
Looking closely, the gate is quiet,
Far away, its reputation soars.
Although the dragon palace has been rebuilt,
The Vulture Peak may as well remain.
The paintings of Wu are left to the wild grass,
The writings of Tang are stacked in stone layers.
The jade tower is home to rats and sparrows,
The temple is full of bees and flies.
There are no trees from the previous dynasty,
Only the vines of the ancient cave are heard of.
The famous mountain is vast and green,
The flowing water is clear and blue.
I am sad to visit so late,
I linger and sigh with increasing emotion.
The setting sun urges the evening guests,
I return with my good friends.
Looking back at the grinding stone,
The misty peaks of the ravine have not yet been climbed. (Seven-character regulated verse)
Treading Snow at Shaolin on the Laba Festival
By Fu Ershi
The three winters are warm and there is no snow at all,
Half the night it flew and then it cleared up again.
After the chaos, how many people seek the ancient temple?
In my excitement, I hope to leave the lonely city.
At the ferry, it seems as if I am riding on the back of a crane,
The fluttering sound of Zijing's sheng is dense.
The round sand is carved with cold tiger tracks,
The waterfall pours down with the sound of ice and Chan branches.
The stalactite grotto is bright and dark with the mountain's form,
The tea smoke recognizes and welcomes those who do not have.
Xun's questions are difficult to answer,
Zhidun's words are unrestrained and he carries a qin.
He is too lazy to be a Ji Zhongsan,
He calls for wine like the mad demon Ruan Bubing.
The stars part from the upper regions, the dissolute poet is drunk,
The poem joins good lines, the tile chicken crows.
The (???-劫灰) has broken the ground, the monk is unharmed,
The old tree roars in the wind, the birds are easily alarmed.
Tonight, the burning lamp encroaches on the white dawn,
Another time, we will form a group more dramatic than the yellow essence.
The frost bell shatters the dream of a floating life,
The empty shadow hangs high in the bright mountain moon.
Visiting Shaolin Temple
By Mu Guangyin
The flying temple leans against half the sky,
This monastery is unique in the world.
It has been here for a long time, with remnants of steles from the Sui and Tang dynasties,
The Dharma has been preserved, and the true transmission was received from the Jin and Wei dynasties.
It goes straight up to the blue sky, the lotus flowers move with purple and green,
It is evenly divided, the jade (???- 乳) hangs down, ten thousand points.
The lamplight depends on the sun and moon, a thousand mountains,
The cloud energy protects the sandalwood platform.
The Sweet Dew Terrace has been moved, yet it can still be drunk from,
The true visage on the wall cannot be discarded.
In this prosperous age, both literature and martial arts shine,
In his spare time, he talks about art and Chan.
The pattra leaves fall and all become gathas,
The Baigu village is ruined, but there are still old fields.
His name is tied to the officials, he is ultimately involved in form,
He lives in the burning house, how can he be free?
He should cut off his shoulders and empty all existence,
Not only to be equal to others, but also to pay homage to the Buddhist feast with his heart.
He looks back at the toiling world,
There is a way to the ferry, all can be pitied.
#Viewing the Wall-Gazing Stone
The utmost sincerity can penetrate metal and stone,
This principle is indeed true.
Modern tales of virtuous women,
Their bloodstains remain for eight years.
#On Bodhidharma's Wall-Gazing
By Wang Liang
The meaning of the patriarch's coming from the west,
Is the original school of suchness.
He made himself indifferent,
And avoided the sharp edge of ten thousand years.
#Four Poems on Ascending the Second Patriarch's Hut
By Zhou Mengyang
One
The lonely peak connects to the clouds in the sky,
So steep that it has no equal.
To visit the master who cut off his arm,
I part the clouds and enter the sky.
Two
After Batuo scolded the water,
The second patriarch occupied the peak.
He planted his staff and settled down,
And a pair of jade wellsprings appeared.
Three
When the second patriarch sought his mind,
The master pacified it for him.
He returned to the peak with his alms bowl,
The realm was pure, and so was his mind.
Four
Climbing the vines to the top of the peak,
I suddenly startled the apes and cranes.
Suddenly, ten thousand sounds arose,
As if hearing the sound of an alms bowl.
#The Image of Bodhidharma at Shaolin
By Chen Jiru
The image of the first patriarch from the west,
Is revered by both men and gods.
If you ask about the patriarch's Chan,
Sin and blessing have no form.
#The Wall-Gazing Stone
By Li Hualong
Bodhidharma faced this wall,
How can his form and traces be distinguished?
Flying through the sky leaves no trace,
The remaining image is ultimately an illusion.
#The Qin Pagoda Tree
By Zhang Yingdeng
In what year was the pagoda tree planted?
In the Qin dynasty, it was already several armspans around.
When it reaches three hundred feet around,
It will transform into an old dragon and fly away.
#Shaolin Temple
By Wang Zhen
One
The ancient Shaolin Temple,
At dawn in spring, the sun is about to set.
I don't see the old monk arriving,
In the empty mountain, the apricot blossoms fall.
Two
Standing alone outside the temple gate,
The cloud-covered peaks race across the blue sky.
The long river resounds without stopping,
I am in the sound of the water.
Three
Quietly listening to the birds sing in the valley,
Idly watching the clouds emerge from the ravine.
No one comes to the mountain,
The pattra flowers bloom and fall.
Four
Parting the clouds to find the second patriarch,
At dawn, I don't hear the bell.
What is in the hut?
Several pine trees from a previous dynasty.
#Visiting Shaolin
The temple in front of Shaoshi Peak,
Is quiet and suitable for talking about Chan.
I came and met no one,
I only saw the falling flowers fluttering.
#The Qin Pagoda Tree
By Zhang Han
The Qin dynasty lasted for two generations,
The old tree is a thousand years old.
The emperor's enterprise is now a dream,
How many times has Nanke been sad?
#Again
I laugh even more at the First Emperor of Qin's obsession,
Seeking immortals and elixirs.
He was not as spiritual as the plants and trees,
Which live forever today.
#Ode to the Sixth Patriarch's Cypress
By Wang Sunchang
The thousand-year-old cypress still exists,
But it is difficult to meet the person who planted it.
He said he had no bodhi,
How could there be a tree?
#A Shaolin Monk's Talk
By Qiao Yu
The autumn moon is bright by the Sweet Dew Terrace,
I happened to meet Tanhuan and we talked about our three lives.
Sitting alone on the Li bed, my mind is like water,
In the middle of the night, in the empty mountain, there is the sound of a chime.
Walking into the temple when the sun has not yet set,
Pieces of empty flowers fall on the incense platform.
Shaolin is a place for Chan hermits,
There are always mountain monks chanting the Lotus Sutra.
#Staying Overnight at Shaolin
By Wang Ying
The west wind blows the rock osmanthus, scattering its faint fragrance,
The moonlight scatters the flock of cranes in the empty courtyard.
The thirty-six peaks emit a spiritual sound,
I sit alone in the pine pavilion in the autumn clouds.
#Visiting Shaolin on a Winter Day
By Yan Xingbang
I have heard of crossing the river on a reed,
The five leaves and three flowers opened here.
The traveler's clogs are lonely, the monk is wall-gazing,
Deep in the night, the wind and rain sweep the scripture platform.
The thirty-six peaks embrace the green crest,
The mossy platform on the Vairocana Pavilion is mottled.
No one continues the unfinished sentences,
The treasure land and the pearl forest are idle all day.
#The Statue of Kinnara at Shaolin Temple
By Shi Yizan
The Buddha from the west sent him to protect the Chan forest,
Barefoot and naked, he faced the invading bandits.
Standing alone on a high peak, his eyes stared,
His divine might was awe-inspiring and struck fear into people's hearts.
A silent, foolish person,
Suddenly transformed into a ferocious ten-zhang body.
He scared away thousands of red-turbaned bandits,
After his meritorious service, he became a god in the temple.
#The Qin Pagoda Tree Shading the Sun
By Gao Chu
The single tree in the Jeta Grove has passed through the years,
Its roots and branches cover a hundred acres, its shadow is like a dragon or a snake.
Visitors often have dreams of three lives,
And from time to time, fine flowers fall from the sandalwood.
#The Pagoda Tree Bestowed with the Fifth Rank
By Li Hualong
Its bald branches and old trunk are already decrepit,
It is said that it was once bestowed with the fifth rank.
Who in the mountains will summon the great hermit?
The sweeping of the path has always been on the peak of Song.
#Resting at Shaolin in the Evening
By Zhao Zhenji
Kunlun extends eastward, the sea and sky turn back,
The green color of the misty peaks of the two chambers opens up.
I want to visit the Lin Hall to ask for the elixir,
I suspect the golden seal is in the blue-green corner.
The crane of the Eastern Zhou returned with the xiao,
The person from the Western Paradise came with a reed.
I have not yet found a raft to cross the sea of dust,
The green mountains surround the immortal's terrace in vain.
#Shaolin Temple
The thirty-six peaks pierce the purple clouds,
Deep in the white clouds, there is a monk's home.
The shadow of the bodhi tree sways on the cliff,
The fragrance of the prajna flower fills the empty gate.
#Miscellaneous Poems on Shaolin
By Xu Xuemo
Famous incense fills the ancient hall all day,
Dancing swords and brandishing halberds see off the setting sun.
No wonder the monks are so fond of martial arts,
Tanzong was once a great general.
Red cliffs and green peaks are brilliant with clouds and rosy clouds,
The halls and pavilions are of different heights, the home of the god Indra.
The treasure trees and pearl forests are almost full,
I don't know where the three flowers are.
#Gazing at Shaolin from the Road to Mount Shaoshi
By Xu Anren
The morning moon sets over the peak of Mount Shaoshi,
The thousand-household city is faintly dark.
It is difficult to sing at the fifth watch, the remaining stars are gone,
On horseback, I look at the mountain and pass Shaolin.
#Shaolin
By Cui Boyuan
A school of Chan came from the west,
The five-leaf flower branch opened from here.
The monk and the white clouds have nothing to do,
The incense smoke locks the green moss day and night.
#Staying Overnight at Shaolin
By Shi Jian
A traveler from the east stays overnight at Shaolin,
The mountain monk's Chan couch is cold and deep in the clouds.
The heavenly wind awakens a dream of three lives,
The autumn sound of the pine tips is like a jade zither.
#Ascending the First Patriarch's Hut
By Wang Yaobi
The green trees are dense and the purple air floats,
Bodhidharma's palace is in the clouds.
What did he accomplish by wall-gazing then?
Today, his image is on the stone.
#Passing Shaolin in the Evening on a Summer Service Trip
By Yi Yu
Why do I travel in the heat of a floating life?
When I enter the Chan gate, the heat subsides.
The old monk sitting opposite me is silent,
A bright moon shines on the mountain top.
#Shaolin
By Fan Fuxiang
I followed my karma and stayed at the upper monastery,
The mountain is covered in smoke and waves, the moon is in the window.
I have many poems but dare not inscribe them all on the wall,
For fear that the idle clouds will laugh at me.
#The Qin Pagoda Tree
By Liu Dashou
The Qin palace was burned to ashes long ago,
This temple still has a pagoda tree for a thousand autumns.
Its title is the same as the Han cypress,
Who today asks about its rise and fall?
#Rising Early to Visit the First Patriarch in the Snow
By Zhang Yingdeng
To visit the place where the Chan master gazed at the wall,
I put on my straw sandals and forced myself to climb high like a crane.
Don't be surprised by the snow on the disciple's waist,
There will be others coming with snow-covered robes.
#On the Cypress Planted by the Sixth Patriarch
He brought the cypress seed from ten thousand miles away,
And planted it himself in the hall of the first patriarch.
The spiritual root is a rootless tree,
Its old trunk reaches for the sky and is free of moss.
#Shaolin
By Yimen Sanren (The Idler of Yimen)
The young shoots of Mount Shaoshi emerge from the clouds and rosy clouds,
Ten thousand ravines and a thousand layers are the home of the monks.
The embroidery is of different heights, flowing with the Han moon,
The stone gate is deeply closed, the heavenly flowers fall.
He practices Chan alone in the blue-green sky,
His traces are in the heavens, in the world of form.
The wild goose pagoda is vast and green, obscuring the bird path,
The dragon pool is remote, the heavenly wind rises.
The sky is clear, the shadow of the tree enters the middle of the stream,
The empty moon is cold, born on the du ruo islet.
The monk returns to the stone chamber and explains the Dharma,
The sound of the bell travels far over the evening mountain.
The west wind blows the leaves all over the green mountain,
The path of the monk returns from beyond the birds.
The people who used to talk about the profound mystery are all gone,
The temple is vast and silent, the white clouds are idle.
#Miscellaneous Odes to Shaolin
By Shen Yingqian
Thunder and rain fly before the Sweet Dew Terrace,
The cliff is precipitous, reflecting the misty haze.
My linen cloak and wild clothes are wet with clouds,
I suspect I am returning from the top of the Golden Bull.
Mount Shaoshi winds around the west of Mount Taishi,
The pine wind and misty vines are the red ladder.
I want to climb to find the golden bright grass,
But when I look back, the road is lost in the clouds and rosy clouds.
#Remembering the Past at Shaolin
By Chen Qile
The new green of the willow sheds welcomes the return of spring,
The ancient cypress stands tall, ten thousand sounds come.
On a long night, where is the flute of the bright moon?
I want to ascend the terrace with Zijing.
The jade dew of the west terrace is the water of the ice pot,
The clear light of the bamboo reflects the Buddhist beads.
Don't be surprised that the master of the Cheng school is so respected,
The Chan heart is especially lonely in the face of the snowflakes.
#On the Shadow of the Wall-Gazing
By Lie
A piece of form exists alone in the stone,
Who will take the trouble to carve it out?
If you can understand the penetration of sincerity,
Don't ask if there is anything in the Western Paradise.
#The Wall-Gazing Hut
By The Tiqian Daoist
My heart is as natural as iron and stone,
I have been practicing wall-gazing for nine years.
If it weren't for my true form appearing on the stone,
Who would know of Bodhidharma's Chan today?
#Again
Bodhidharma has been gone for several thousand springs,
It is difficult to find the old master in the hut.
Don't envy the remaining shadow on the stone,
The forms of the world may not be real.
#Shaolin Temple
The clear clouds of the two chambers return to their nature,
The sparse pines and steep cliffs hide the Chan gate.
Who among those I meet is a recluse?
What a pity for the green, lush mountain range.
#Bodhidharma's Cave
The mouth of the cave is pale and empty, the setting sun slants,
I sit on a cattail hassock on the edge of the white clouds.
I look at the wall-gazing and leave a true gatha,
The wind rustles on the cliff top, the rain of flowers is chaotic.
#Ascending to the Summit of Mount Shaoshi from Shaolin
The green-hewn lonely peak is as high as the sky,
I have passed through layers of clouds, all ten thousand mountains are low.
The Sanskrit sound is heard once, the long sky is dark,
To the northwest, the Yellow River falls like a crimson rainbow.
#Visiting Shaolin
By Zhao Chen
The pattra leaves have not yet returned with the white horse,
The Chan forest opened early in the green mountains.
Bodhidharma has already crossed the flowing sand,
The abbot's room is empty in a corner of Mount Shaoshi.
#Again
By Yang Dong
Kunlun is imposing, driving back the sky,
The ancient temple opens in the heart of the sky.
A stream of cold spring flies through the years,
A few sounds of spiritual cranes rise from the corner of the mountain.
Where in the world can one find Penglai?
The forests and ravines, the spring and fragrance emit beautiful pearls.
Since the man who crossed the river left,
The mountain is full of clear shadows, the moon is bright and lonely.
#The Wall-Gazing Stone
By Jiao Qinchong
Was the nine years of sitting cross-legged originally an illusion?
Was returning to the west with one shoe true or false?
Who knows the original true face?
Only the shadow of the moon is left to enlighten the Chan mind.
#Four Poems on the New Achievements of Shaolin
By Shi Yizan
Buddhism came from the west to establish a place of practice,
It relied on the light of monks to explain the meaning of the scriptures.
Why is wall-gazing called the first patriarch?
I don't see a single stick of incense from Batuo.
Emperor Wen of Wei built the temple to translate foreign scriptures,
To show his good heart and pray for the prosperity of the country.
He did not understand how to rule his family and only foolishly believed in Buddha,
The empress dowager caused chaos, the Buddha was not spiritual.
In front of the Five Breast Peak, a secluded temple,
The magnificent palace rises into the clouds.
There are countless steles from the Tang and Song dynasties,
Half are built into the red ladder, half are lying on the mound.
The boundless Dharma deceives the common people,
The cunning have always been the monks.
The jade palaces and pavilions are so beautiful,
They still regret that they don't have enough money to repair them.
#The Wall-Gazing Stone
By He Yu
A piece of stone has been self-portraying for nine years,
The eyebrows and beard are faintly visible, showing its spirit.
In the deep cave, I imagine what happened back then,
Man faced the wall, and the wall faced man.
#Bodhidharma's Wall-Gazing Stone
By Zhang Shoupei
The essence is condensed in the stone, just as it was back then,
Sitting cross-legged, suchness is recognized as the true interpretation.
It is because Shakyamuni was full of samadhi and prajna,
That one can only understand the Chan of the mind.
#Gazing at Bodhidharma's Cave
I came from the west on a reed to ask about the quiet den,
The grotto-heaven is heavily locked, it is samadhi.
I stop and gaze at the deep clouds,
The wind sends light smoke into the ivy.
#In the Mountains of Shaolin
By Guo Zhuang
The birds on the pine tops are noisy with the bells and chimes,
The clouds on the window are on the cassock.
After reciting a volume of the Shurangama Sutra,
The heavens rain down flowers.
The wonderful Dharma is the true seal of India,
The land is connected to the strange peaks of Mount Song.
I also sit cross-legged in the mountains,
The wind of extinction blows down the tall pines.
The mountain path is full of pine smoke and vine moon,
The stone pillar has tiger tracks and ape traces.
I hear that the long-browed monk is in samadhi,
The cave has been sealed by clouds for many years.
The pattra leaves in the light of the sea treasury,
The famous incense in the quiet cattail hassock.
Looking back at the red dust of ten thousand miles,
The lamp of the mind illuminates Handan.
The broken stele of a previous dynasty's ancient temple,
The transmission of the robe in the famous mountain of the central plains.
The sun, moon, mountain flowers are the eye of the Way,
I hesitate and am too lazy to go to the human world.
#The Wall-Gazing Hut
By Chen Xiance
I came in the rain to climb the ancient temple,
I parted the clouds and went straight to the top of the mountain.
The first patriarch flew away on a reed,
The single transmission remains in the heart-field.
#The Shadow on the Wall-Gazing Stone
By Liu Yuhu
In the Dharma, there is no form,
How can the patriarch have this?
Who has an image in the stone?
How can the patriarch not have this?
Hey, to be born is not in vain,
To die without form is a waste.
#Another Inscription for the Wall-Gazing Stone Pavilion
By Liu Yuhu
When you were wall-gazing, you were here,
When you were not wall-gazing, you were also here.
Coming and going, horizontally and vertically,
How can you leave the original beginning?
The six roots are always silent,
The eight winds cease to rise.
Perfectly bright and wonderfully profound,
Like the cold toad and the autumn water.
It penetrates metal and stone,
It's just this little thing.
You can carry it back and forth,
You don't care at all.
Grinding it until it bleeds is not a strange thing,
This is the true spirit,
The spirit uses the ear to see,
People are confused about the wonderful meaning.
#The Wall-Gazing Stone
By Li Rixuan
The Dharma has no form,
How can the master have it?
The stone is not the master,
How can the form exist?
Therefore, it is called illusion, nothingness, and also not so.
Is it real? Is it not?
Ask the stone, the stone does not know.
Ask the master, the master does not know.
Ask me again, I am also thus.
#The Wall-Gazing Stone
By Huang Tingjian
Nine years at Shaolin,
He left a single phrase.
Until now,
It has been mistakenly cited everywhere.
#Gatha on Viewing the Wall-Gazing Stone
By Wang Shixing
A living person does a dead thing,
It is difficult to explain to everyone.
Break this piece of stone,
And you will be allowed to see the Tathagata.
#Again
By Shen Fuwen
What is living, what is dead?
What is there to say?
What stone is not the Buddha?
Where is not the Tathagata?
#Praise for the Great Master of Wall-Gazing, Bodhidharma
By Su Shi (Song Dynasty)
The plain wall of Shaolin,
He did not consider it an obstacle.
The whole world had the same hope,
He did not consider it Qin.
Examining the teachings of the six masters,
What was obscure in the past is clear today.
He does not come or go,
What is lost, what is gained?
Bending and stretching for thirty-one years,
Although I change daily, who can move it?
#Praise for Bodhidharma
By Lu Shusheng
Coming from India to the east,
What is the basis for this?
He silently gazed at the silent cliff,
And revealed a difference in the light.
Parting the grass to gaze at the wind,
He did not open up to the opportunity.
He returned to the west in disarray,
Having lost one shoe.
Even though he did not travel,
He stirred up waves everywhere.
#Ode to Bodhidharma
By Feng Shike
Where did he come from in the west,
Where did he go in the east?
The broken reed has no shadow,
The wall has an image but is empty.
The empty body is real,
The real image is a small fruit.
He did not hope for the leaky cause,
He did not praise the vast emptiness.
There is no holiness,
How can there be skill?
The mind and the realm are perfectly connected,
The spiritual transformations are indistinct.
He explained the Mahayana opportunity and got off his legs.
Who broke what, who had what shadow,
And cannot be imagined?
He came from India,
He went to the Pamir Mountains.
Where did he come from, where did he go?
Is it form, is it shadow?
He does not come or go,
He is not moving or still.
Wall-gazing and traveling,
The mind creates the realm.
Whose face, whose feet?
The mind eliminates the realm.
The three lines of principle surpass the six schools of the Dharma,
The screen of the Mahayana atmosphere, who understands it?
#To the Tune of "Yujia'ao" (The Fisherman's Pride) - The First Patriarch
By Huang Tingjian
He came to this land from ten thousand waters and a thousand mountains,
He originally brought the mind seal to transmit to Emperor Wu of Liang.
"Who is the one facing me?" he completely ignored.
It became a dead phrase,
At the head of the river, he secretly broke a long reed and crossed.
He gazed at the wall for nine years and looked at the second patriarch,
He personally entrusted the five leaves of one flower.
He returned to the Pamir Mountains with one shoe.
Do you know?
He clearly forgot the way he came.
#Rhapsody on the Thirty-Six Peaks of Mount Shaoshi, with a Preface
By Lou Yi of Song (Modern-day Dengfeng)
When I was young, I heard that the prosperity of Luoyang was in the Tang and Song dynasties, when it was the eastern and western capital. The richness of its mountains and rivers was outstanding compared to other prefectures. I have seen the descriptions of Han Tuizhi and Bai Letian in their poems, and they had endless admiration for it. Later, Ouyang Wenzhong and the other worthies of the Mei and Xie families succeeded each other as colleagues and often traveled between Song and Shao. This is still considered a fine story today. I am not talented, but I am fortunate to have had a comprehensive view of all the realms of Mount Song. None of them surpasses Mount Shaoshi. Its cliffs are precipitous and are right outside my window. I can see them clearly from morning to night. Therefore, I wrote this rhapsody on the thirty-six peaks to broaden my own horizons, not daring to compare myself to the poets of old.
The "Floating Clouds" of the ancient poems:
The young master of the floating clouds,
Sought the Way in the forests and hills,
And rested his spirit in the cliffs and valleys.
He had a transcendent ambition to travel far and wide,
And so he ascended to the summit of Mount Dai in the east,
And paid homage to the foot of Mount Hua in the west.
To the south of Mount Heng,
And to the north of Mount Heng,
There was nowhere he did not explore and tread.
His mind wandered and his eyes roamed,
He was so engrossed that he forgot to return,
And he was inwardly joyful and self-satisfied.
Suddenly, he rode the wind,
Parting the air and creating,
In the central region, he slowly looked around.
His mind was in a trance, as if he had lost something,
He met an old man from Mount Song and asked for the way,
Saying, "I have truly gained something from traveling in the four directions.
Why have I not climbed this high mountain?
Why have I not ascended this perilous peak?
Now I look around,
And it is precipitous and towering.
A majestic pillar holding up the celestial net,
Lying across the axis of the earth.
It is connected and overlapping,
Like a coiling dragon and a crouching tiger.
Mount Hua has nine peaks and Mount Wu has twelve,
But they are not as strange as these sixty-six peaks."
The old man put down his staff and laughed,
"The autumn water has just arrived,
And the river god is overflowing with self-importance.
Have you, a bird, seen how difficult it is to match the sea god?
Have you not heard of Mount Shaoshi in the middle of the sky?
Its height is so dense,
It has sixteen layers and eighteen folds.
Its depth is so winding and circuitous,
It is ten li to the top and a hundred li around.
It encompasses Songyang as a protective barrier,
And cuts off Huanyuan as a wall.
It is the place where the songs of the mountains are heard,
And the place where the dances of the waters are enjoyed.
On it, there are fine grains and sweet fruits,
Divine fungi and immortal medicines.
The stone pillars are like trays for receiving dew,
The imperial rest is like the leaves of a willow branch.
The dripping stone fat,
Can be drunk for a long life.
The ancient jade paste is on the peak,
It can be taken to greet the feathered guests.
The well of mica,
Is where treasures gather.
The cave of light,
Is where the sun shines brightest.
A ten-foot stalactite,
Can be eaten as a thousand years' worth of provisions,
And it is inexhaustible.
It can be used to avoid the disasters of war and flood,
And it has a vast collection of scriptures.
Its divine strangeness is that the jade maiden weaves brocade,
And the golden man is lost in the falling white dew.
The cloud cave alarms the timely bell,
And the stone well weeps for the mournful crane.
Prince Jin used it as a fortress,
And King Ashoka treasured it as a pagoda.
These are all things that you, young master, do not know,
And where the old man lives in peace."
The old man said, "Fame is born from treasures,
And meaning is established in what is suitable.
You know one, but not the other.
You know the outside, but not the inside.
You only know what the sixty-six have,
But you do not see the meaning of the sixty-six names.
To the east, the temple of the sacred mountain is solemn with a hundred gods,
To the west, Luoyang is dense with a thousand palaces.
The sun and the lesser sun are the light of the mountain,
The stone city and the stone shoots are shaped by heaven.
The sandalwood and the cinnabar are where treasures are gathered,
The alms bowl and the censer are shaped like them.
The purple sky that connects to the sky is at the end of its power,
The arhats and the seven Buddhas have left their images.
The Lingyin and the Laixian caves are deep,
The Qingliang and the Baosheng Buddhist temples are marked.
The auspicious response and the jade tablet have abundant auspicious light,
The purple cover and the green canopy are condensed with misty haze.
The medicine hall and the Ziwei have spiritual flowers and plants,
The Baidao and the Tiande have great names.
The Zhuojian and the Baiyun have their shapes recorded,
The Jinniu and the Mingyue have their colors and images.
The Ningbi and the Yingxia have gathered heavenly flowers,
The Yuhua and the Baozhu are as lustrous as gold and stone.
The Xima and the Bailu have many divine beings,
These are the meanings of the sixty-six names,
But not the scenery of the sixty-six.
The old man said, "When the spring is lush,
The burn scars are gone and it is green.
The red and purple are embroidered,
Attracting a hundred warbling birds.
The majestic towers and magnificent pavilions,
Cut through the stars and invade the sky.
The jade immortals and the divine maidens,
Descend in their chariots.
In the bright summer, the grass and trees are lush,
They block the midday sun.
The clouds on the mountain top are rising,
As if they are covering it and it is sultry.
Suddenly, the sound of rain is outside,
The force is like an overturned basin pouring down.
Only the purple fungus and the yellow crane,
Dance in the long sky and produce flowers.
The golden wind alarms the leaves,
The mountain is empty and the falling stones are like the sound of immortals.
The night moon is white and floats cold,
The jade shoots are clear and can be heard more and more.
When the dark winter has stripped the forest bare,
The mountain is thin and its bones are icy.
The snow accumulates for a thousand ren,
The jade dragon flies and the white tiger stands tall.
Only the changing seasons,
The changing forms of light and dark, cloudy and clear, cannot be fully named.
How can one only look up and listen down from morning to night,
And be too busy to respond,
To describe the morning and evening?
This is something that even the old man cannot describe,
How can you, young master, have heard of it in advance?
The old man said, "They are precipitous and support the sky,
They change in a thousand ways.
The mountain and earth records,
Cannot be fully measured.
Some have their backs turned as if they are at odds,
Some have their faces turned as if they are facing each other.
Some are tall as if they are bowing,
Some are bowing as if they are saluting.
Some are scattered as if they have forgotten each other,
Some are gathered as if they are visiting each other.
Some are behind as if they are harmonizing,
And some are in front as if they are singing.
Some are low as if they are below,
And some are noble as if they are above.
Some are happy as if they are holding hands,
Some are angry as if they are fighting.
Some are like Qin and Jin,
Matched with each other.
Some are like Chu and Yue,
Facing each other.
Some are tall and thin,
Like wearing a high hat.
Some are bloated,
Like wearing padded clothes.
Some are crouching,
Like a camel or a tiger.
Some are gathered,
Like a cooking pot.
Some are majestic,
Like a strong man.
Some are brave,
Like a valiant general.
Some are fast,
Like a wind horse.
Some are floating in the air,
Like a boat.
Some are like traveling in the suburbs,
With mounds and graves.
Some are like entering an ancestral temple,
With dou and deng and dense.
Dense like swords and halberds,
Scattered like screens.
The momentum is summarized,
Broken but still connected.
The form is graceful,
Winding and then straight.
Transcendent like the thirty-six heavens,
The grotto-heavens of the immortals.
Graceful like the thirty-six palaces,
The outing of the concubines.
The high peaks are cleared, the crown and pendants are leisurely,
The spring flies, the rosy clouds tilt, the wine cups are scattered.
The sky is dry, the stars are bright, the jade chessboard is formed,
The pine emperor plays the qin and se, the music of the highest heaven welcomes.
The charming clouds and the curved moon, the eyebrows are new,
The smoke is slanting, the mist is steaming, the dragon and musk are burning.
The rosy clouds unfurl, the rainbow rolls, the dancing sleeves are long,
The thunder roars, the palace chariots return."
Before he finished speaking, the young master was as drunk as if he were intoxicated,
And as sober as if he had awakened.
Without the old man, there would be no way to cure him,
To scrape him clean and make him bright.
He had not been able to exhaust the beautiful scenery of this mountain,
Or to investigate the shining spirit of this mountain.
He asked to hold the staff and follow behind.
(The stele is inside the temple gate.)
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