Showing posts with label Zen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zen. Show all posts

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Your Catfish Friend, by Richard Brautigan and Lumen - Empty Monastery, Visiting Dharma - Guile with a friend from Cypress Terrace by Meng Hao Jan

Your Catfish Friend

If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
     one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
     of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
      somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
     at peace,
and ask youself,"I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond? It seems like
a perfect place for them."

From The Pill Versus The Springhill Mine Disaster.


Lumen - Empty Monastery, Visiting Dharma - Guile with a friend from Cypress Terrace

It's a delight to meet, set out, and together
visit Master Dharma - Guile's ch'an stillness

where people never go. At his stone hut
we only find a tiger dozing in a hammock,

shadowy wind harbouring perennial snows,
springwater welling up into pine cascades.

We came from lives so different - but here,
dharma mats offer a joy we share utterly.

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Chinese Poetry

Returning Home to Deer-Gate Mountain At Night
As Day Fades into dusk, the bell at a mountain temple sounds.
Fish-Bridge Island is loud with people clamoring at the ferry,

and others follow sandy shores toward their river village.
But returning home to Deer-Gate, I paddle my own little boat,

Deer-Gate's incandescent moonlight opening misty forests,
until suddenly I've entered old Master P'ang's isolate realm.

Cliff the gate, pines the path - it's forever still and silent,
just this one recluse, this mystery coming and going of itself.
Meng Hao-Jan (Ran): The Mountain Poems of Meng Hao-Jan, poem translated by David Hinton.

Mourning Yin Yao
Returning you to Stone-Tower Mountain, we bid farewell
among ash-green pine and cypress, then return home.

Of your bones now buried white cloud, this much remains
forever: streams cascading empty towards human realms.
Wang Wei: The Selected Poems of Wang Wei, poem translated by David Hinton.

Reading Ch'an Sutras
In all difference appearance reveals, there's no difference,
and even dwelling beyond any trace of residue is itself residue.

Forget words in the midst of words, and you will see through it all.
Root out dream in the midst of dream, and you double abscence.

But how can you harvest fruit from the blossoms of emptiness,
and how can you catch a meal of fish in some lakewater mirage?

To still relentless change is Ch'an, and Ch'an is change itself.
No Ch'an and no change - there lies what seems in what seems.
Po Chu-I: The Selected Poems of Po Chu-I, poem translated by David Hinton.

At the Hua – Shan hermitage of adept Ma Tai
Jade Woman,
"washing her hair in a basin,"
is solitary, high,
indescribable.

Waterfalls spill
from Lotus Peak's summit;
the Yellow River
sweeps past the base of Mount Hua.

Here, small birds break off;
the woods conceal tigers;
gibbons liver
where no people do.

After rain;
the autumn moon;
on rock;
old pines and a gate.
Chia Tao: When I Find You Again It Will Be In Mountains, poem translated by Mike O’Connor.

Written on the Wall at Master Wei Feng’s
The grassy path
Leads to deep cloister.
Arriving in Autumn
Eases my heart
Even more.

In town
No one I've known long.
Outside the gate, another mountain.
Exploring the silence gives poetic
Thought birth. Fasting
Confers a sick look.

On freezing nights
You arrange to meet me often:
Silent talk beyond
Human Space.
Pao Hsien: And the Clouds Should Know Me By Now, poem translated by Paul Hansen.