thank you folks
new day
God bless everyone
no exceptions
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At dawn with staff in hand I climbed the crags,
At dusk I made my camp among the mountains.
Only a few peaks rise as high as this house,
Facing the crags, it overlooks winding streams.
In front of its gates a vast forest stretches.
While boulders are heaped round its very steps.
Hemmed in by mountains, there seems no way out,
The track gets lost among the thick bamboos.
Deep in meditation, how can I part from Truth?
I cherish the Way and never will swerve from it
- Xie Lingyun (385–433)
I cannot find the Monastery of Heaped Fragrance,
Miles up now into the clouds of the summit.
There is no footpath through the ancient woods.
Where did the bell sound,
Deep in the sound, deep in the mountain? The voice of the torrent gulps over jagged stones;
Sunlight hardly warms the bluish pines.
As dusk deepens in these unfathomable mazes,
I practice meditation
To subdue the dragon of desire.
- Wang Wei (701–761)
We live through our fictions.
We act as if
We will not die.
We act as if
There are gods that
Reward and punish.
We acts as if
We control our life,
Control our destiny.
It need not be otherwise;
The next moment will
Take care of itself.
Substance is immanent in
Every shadow.
This is the gate without a gate that
One must pass through
To attain understanding.
wu'hsin
Far, faraway, steep mountain paths,
Treacherous and narrow, ten thousand feet up;
Over boulders and bridges, lichens of green,
White clouds are often seen soaring,
A cascade suspends in mid-air like a bolt of silk;
The moon’s reflection falls on a deep pool, glittering.
I shall climb up the magnificent mountain peak,
To await the arrival of a solitary crane.
- Shide (8th c.)
Half into the mountains,
A mountain monastery.
A man in the country now,
I climb to it on an autumn day.
It is right in their midst,
With lovely rocks askew;
Solitary on the summit on its very highest layer.
- Dun Xunhe (846-904)
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being alone isn't so bad
it's been told to me that God is everywhere
"For years my heart inquired of me‚"
Hafez
For years my heart inquired of me
Where Jamshid's sacred cup might be,
And what was in its own possession
It asked from strangers, constantly;
Begging the pearl that's slipped its shell
From lost souls wandering by the sea.
Last night I took my troubles to
The Magian sage whose keen eyes see
A hundred answers in the wine
Whose cup he, laughing, showed to me.
I questioned him, "When was this cup
That shows the world's reality
Handed to you?" He said, "The day
Heaven's vault of lapis lazuli
Was raised, and marvelous things took place
By Intellect's divine decree,
And Moses' miracles were made
And Sameri's apostasy."
He added then, "That friend they hanged
High on the looming gallows tree—
His sin was that he spoke of things
Which should be pondered secretly,
The page of truth his heart enclosed
Was annotated publicly.
But if the Holy Ghost once more
Should lend his aid to us we'd see
Others perform what Jesus did—
Since in his heartsick anguish he
Was unaware that God was there
And called His name out ceaselessly."
I asked him next, "And beauties' curls
That tumble down so sinuously,
What is their meaning? Whence do they come?"
"Hafez," the sage replied to me,
"It's your distracted, lovelorn heart
That asks these questions constantly."
today's lesson and aspiration
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A saint is not ashamed of being despised,
but saddened to see good counsel spurned.
That life be brief does not depress him but avoidable suffering distresses him.
He keeps his mind free of vain endeavors and embraces wisdom.
By becoming one with the Great Unity the saint avoids the whirlpool of the mundane vanities.
- Wen-tzu
