《草堂集》

The Caotang ji (Collection of the Thatched Hall)

Composed by Master Wang, Baiyunzi of Wufeng (the Five Peaks)

Eleven Lyrics to the Tune “Man Ting Fang” (Courtyard Full of Fragrance)

The twenty-second day of the twelfth lunar month is the memorial day on which Patriarch Chongyang (Wang Chongyang), through compassionate and wondrous conduct, descended into the human world, and it is likewise the memorial day on which Master Danyang (Ma Danyang) accorded with Heaven’s mandate and peacefully departed this life to ascend to Heaven. When the companions of the Dao (the Way) had completed their purification observance, they composed lyrics and presented them in offering.

After the snow, the gardens and groves of the countryside stand clear and bright, and the ponds have frozen over, for it is the very depth of winter. On this day Patriarch Chongyang descended into the human world to proclaim the true tradition of the Daoist teaching.

Now we meet once more the day when Master Danyang took leave of the world and soared up to the celestial palaces. Xuanyuan (the profound root-principle of the Dao) is deep and subtle: one descended and one ascended, manifesting wondrous spiritual merit.

This transformative teaching of the Dao is without end. The true patriarch once transmitted the Dao south of the capital, in Shaanxi, in Hebei, and in Shandong; children and elders alike, who does not revere and admire him?

He met the world as conditions arose and taught in accord with the time, broadly opening gates of expedient means so that the principles of the Three Teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—came to interpenetrate. Companions of the Dao, from this day forward, when shall we meet again?

Presented to Wei Dechun

Fame and profit are like chains, and bonds of kindness like cords; in all the world, who is not caught and entangled by them? If only one can awaken, it shows that the affinity for cultivating the Dao was already present long before.

Why go on striving so bitterly to escape the dusty world? If one seeks a way out amid the tangles of emotion, one may instead give rise to enmity. Do you know that, unseen, a true sage is receiving and guiding you, so that you may accord with the Dao of Heaven and set foot on the proper path?

Be firm and cautious, and draw in the chains of fame and profit and the cords of kindness and affection. In all the world, who is not caught and entangled by them? If only one can awaken, it shows that the affinity for cultivating the Dao was already present long before.

Why go on striving so bitterly to escape the dusty world? If one seeks a way out amid the tangles of emotion, one may instead give rise to enmity. Do you know that, unseen, a true sage is receiving and guiding you, so that you may accord with the Dao of Heaven and set foot on the proper path?

Be firm and cautious: subdue the horse of the will (the unchecked, restless impulses of intention) and seize the monkey of the mind (the agitated, unquiet movements of thought). The least indulgence will damage the inner foundation of cultivation.

In daily life one should often examine one’s own faults; when dwelling among others, do not fix one’s gaze only on their errors. Only in this way can the true nature, originally complete and perfect, suffer no loss.

Presented to Liu Silang

A plain and simple family tradition, a pure and leisurely household—who will set the mind to seek them? The numinous, luminous nature innate in human beings is trapped by this “burning house” of the dusty world (the world filled with affliction).

People cling greedily to the kindness and love of the world, yet do not know that a road leading back to the Great Dao has long lain ahead. One ought to awaken: we who study the Dao and cultivate should cut off every entanglement with a single stroke and let them go completely.

Free and at ease—how could that compare with an eagle breaking loose from its cage, or a fish wriggling free of the hook? The heart feels light, airy, and unbound, like a small boat whose cable has been untied, drifting on alone.

Following one’s proper lot, one eats when hungry and drinks when thirsty; once full, one pats one’s belly and sings. With no cares or bonds in the heart, when the work is done one takes one’s leave, and with unhurried steps goes to visit Yingzhou (the legendary immortal mountains in the sea).

Presented to Zhou Xin and Others

A person’s high or low station is arranged by Heaven; flourishing and decline follow one’s allotted portion. This is perfectly clear, and is not something that can be decided by forced scheming. What is gained was originally already one’s own; what is lost was originally never there.

To toy with clever tricks and chase after lucky chances is wasted effort: it only drains the mind and wears out body and heart. O deluded ones, craving along the path of petty gains no bigger than a fly’s head—what can you possibly obtain?

The Toad and the Crow (a traditional name for the moon and the sun) move swiftly on their courses. Within a human life of a hundred years, time passes in an instant. Just at the moment of rosy cheeks and black hair, a turn of the eye and all has turned white.

Impermanence (death) will soon arrive. When that time comes, what do you intend to meet it with? How could that compare with me, emptying the heart and resting in quiet ease, and carefully guarding the great elixir furnace (the foundation of body and mind for cultivating Neidan (internal alchemy))?

Another

A single point of luminous awareness (a person’s spiritual nature) is dragged along by every kind of emotion and train of thought—when has it ever had a moment of peace? The cycle of rebirth presses on without cease; life and death turn and return, and the bones that accumulate stand like hills.

Thus one loses the original mind and cannot awaken, and can only vaunt one’s cleverness and gift for argument, putting a calculating mind and clever schemes to work. It is like moths dashing into the flame, or ants scurrying back and forth, trapped within the cycle.

Now one personally meets the host of immortals descending into the world to proclaim their teaching. They disclose the great teaching of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection), the doctrinal method of the Quanzhen school, and point directly to the Mysterious Pass (the crucial gateway for entering cultivation).

One ought regularly to maintain clarity and stillness, with no need to contend or debate, to return to the root and restore the true, and to recover a youthfulness like a child’s complexion. From this day on, dispel doubt and cut off delusive thoughts, and one’s name may be entered among the immortals.

Another

The four karmas, the Three Peng (the three corpse-spirits), the seven emotions, and the six desires incite the human heart the whole night and the whole day. Caught by them, a person is as if fallen into a circling snare, and can hardly break free of the dark, heaving waves.

Resolutely renounce greed and jealousy, and stop resorting to cunning schemes and calculating at every turn. Alas, from ancient times to the present, who has never suffered the rebuke of others?

Brother Wang, hear me speak plainly: make up your mind, and on no account delay. Constantly hone that passionless sword of wisdom, and with it cut through selfish desire and clinging attachment.

Even when you stand amid the ranks of battle, be all the more firm and keen, and scatter every kind of demonic obstruction. When you return from cultivation, the people will be at peace and the state prosperous, and all will join together in singing songs of Great Peace.

In Praise of the Three Teachings

Buddhism sets forth emptiness and quiescence; Daoism values clarity and stillness; Confucianism takes as its aim the cultivation of the hundred forms of conduct and the fulfillment of complete and well-rounded virtuous action. The Three Teachings each establish a teaching of their own, yet they illuminate one another and bring one another to completion.

Confucius (Nifu) is renowned in the world under the name of the Supreme Sage; the Tathagata (the Buddha) realized the Dao (the Way) of the Great Awakened Golden Immortal. The patriarch of our Daoist tradition, Lord Lao (Laozi), bears the honored title of Sagely Wisdom, transmitted without cease from ancient times to the present.

The Three Teachings are profound and subtle; they originally arise from a single substance. Where is there any distinction of higher and lower, of earlier and later? Together the Three Teachings uphold the state and broadly transform the people of the world and the beings of the heavenly realms.

This is like the boundless great sea, which divides into different branches that flow into the various rivers. Yet however they divide and wherever they flow, in the end they all return to the source.

In Reply to One Who Asked Why I Left Home and How One Cultivates

I set down these crude and shallow lines as they come, briefly stating what I myself have seen. In the past I was lost in the illusory dreams of the mundane world and idly wasted twenty years.

Suddenly I awoke: the road ahead was steep and perilous. If one remains forever entangled in bonds of affection, who would dare go on delaying? So I entered the mysterious gate, seeking the profound and subtle principle, and with an open and easy heart I delighted in the innate genuineness of my nature.

A life of pure poverty is itself good: one restores plainness and simplicity, nurtures one’s original nature, and tends the Shen (spirit). By good fortune the clear wind keeps me company, and the bright moon is my neighbor.

I am able to enjoy free and easy wandering, watching the sun and moon—the crow and the hare, for the ancients took the crow and the hare to symbolize the sun and the moon—rise in the east and set in the west. When one reaches a realm that words cannot express, of that one small insight gained in cultivation, how many are able to understand it?

Address to the Assembly

The cheeks are clean and lustrous; body and mind are grave and dignified; the bright moon is one’s neighbor.

One is able to enjoy free and easy wandering, watching the sun and moon rise in the east and set in the west. When one reaches a realm that words cannot express, of that one small insight gained in cultivation, how many are able to understand it?

With clean oil they anoint the cheeks, then pass white flour through a fine sieve, washing, pounding, and grinding it until it is as fine as polished rice. Offerings are prepared with great care, and rare delicacies are laid out in the kitchen.

Incense is offered with reverence and caution, and the fragrance of purity and stillness is lit. Bows are made again and again, with no shrinking from the toil. The only hope is that the living may receive blessing and protection, and that the departed may be delivered and advanced in rank.

We must heed these admonitions and not grow slack, keeping the heart turned toward the Dao (the Way) firm and unwavering. We should clarify the inner mind and wash away stray thoughts, and must not offend the statutes of Heaven.

If there is even a slight breach of the fast or a violation of the precepts, and one still feels no shame, then even a single drop of water is hard to receive. If the merit of cultivation is impaired, then when retribution comes, Heaven and Earth will not readily grant pardon.

Lyrics for a Jiao Commissioned by the Military Commissioner of Pingzhou, Cavalry General Wanyan

The Military Commissioner of Pingzhou, Cavalry General Wanyan, ordered these lyrics for a blessing jiao to be written.

Warm, gentle air spreads in harmony; the days grow longer, the breeze is soft, and bright sunlight plays in concert with the surrounding scene. The gardens seem spread with brocade, and peach and plum blossom in full splendor. Swallows murmur and orioles sing, vying in graceful calls; tender yellow willow branches hang low. A fine fragrant wind arrives, as if a fairy grace descends on this very day and bestows auspicious fortune upon one secluded in the inner chambers.

Her bearing and spirit are outstanding, her features lovely; her complexion is as warm and smooth as jade, her manner faintly like that of a crane. Her disposition is modest and gentle, kind and benevolent, and she constantly harbors good intentions.

There is no need to wish her still more years. She already possesses pure primordial Qi (vital energy) and original nature, and the time of her becoming an immortal is appointed of itself. When worldly affinities are exhausted and the human realm is like a dream from which one has just awakened, she will at last return to the banquet at Yaochi (the Jasper Pool).

Again

She is an outstanding figure who protects the state, and also a noble kinswoman of the imperial house. She receives the emperor’s grace, guards her region, and constantly practices good deeds.

There is no need to wish her still more years. She already possesses pure primordial Qi and original nature, and the time of her becoming an immortal is appointed of itself. When worldly affinities are exhausted and the human realm is like a dream from which one has just awakened, she will at last return to the banquet at Yaochi.

Again

Your talents are outstanding and able to protect the state; you are also a noble kinsman of the imperial house. You receive the emperor’s grace and hold Pingshan in guard. You bring the people of the region peace and settlement, which is a cause for gladness.

You regard the people as your own children, ease punishments, and show pity and care even to the foolish who have erred. You are impartial and do not yield to private feeling. The fine reputation of your governance spreads abroad and ought to reach throughout the human world.

Even beyond official duties you continue to accumulate De (Virtue/Power), sincerely revering the Dao and keeping the mind at peace. Summoned from afar, you reverently establish a spirit altar.

You set up a jiao to offer thanks and prayers to the holy assemblies of the various heavens, and with the aid of the blue-skirted immortal maidens you open the gates of the netherworld. From this time on, the Exalted Perfected (Gaozhen, the high divine perfected of the Daoist tradition) look down in care and protection, and your name is entered among the ranks of the superior immortals.

Wang Haichao

Self-Chant

Once I clung to worldly love and spent a whole life in restless busyness; now all of this has suddenly dispersed. I know my lot and delight in Heaven. Amid clear wind and bright moon, beside mountains and waters, I dwell in seclusion and cultivate.

Keep the mouth closed and say nothing, remaining as quiet as a simpleton, and pay no heed to other people’s talk or to their disputes over right and wrong. All day there is nothing else to do but guard this bit of cultivation.

Within what is deep, hidden, and subtle, one secretly accords with the mysterious workings. The mind is clear and still, as if there were nothing upon which one need rely. When the mood comes, one chants; when one is glad, one sings and dances, following the occasion and enjoying the pleasure of pure quiet and Wuwei (non-action).

One does not deliberately adorn one’s outward appearance, but lets oneself stay loose and idle, resting at ease in Wuwei. One is content only with a life of plain poverty and leisure, letting the sun and moon—the “crow and the hare,” which stand for the sun and the moon—course from east to west.

Eleven Lyrics from Yulu Sanjian Xue (Jade Furnace, Snow of the Three Ravines), originally titled “Xijiang Yue” (West River Moon)

In Reply to Master Qin

Leaning on a staff, one wanders among waters and clouds, wholly at ease, and able everywhere to rest peacefully in Wuwei. One is content only with a life of plain poverty and leisure, letting the sun and moon course from east to west.

Eleven Lyrics from Yulu Sanjian Xue (Jade Furnace, Snow of the Three Ravines), originally titled “Xijiang Yue” (West River Moon)

In Reply to Master Qin

Staff in hand, one roams among waters and clouds, free in one’s own person, and takes the four directions as home. One reclines in lofty ease within a grotto-heaven (the immortal realm spoken of in Daoism), nurturing and refining cinnabar; the thatched hut and the brushwood fence are like a scene in a painting.

One gathers the yellow sprout and the white snow (terms of Neidan, internal alchemy, commonly used for the transformations of Jing, essence, Qi, vital energy, and the like in the course of cultivation) and blends jade liquor with golden tea (likewise symbolic terms of Neidan practice). Their sweet flavor need not be boasted of; the immortal attainment one gains is beyond price.

Another Lyric of Hidden Heads and Split Characters

□ “great” is by no means solid or reliable; □ “now,” one is still deluded and attached to life at home. □ one must yet come to understand the purple numinous cinnabar (a term of Neidan cultivation); □ set aside the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

□ one must calcine and refine with diligence; □ within, the famed tea is brought to maturity (a symbol of what cultivation yields). □ now that its flavor has been tasted, what need is there still to boast? On the □ day, when cultivation succeeds, its worth is beyond compare. The original says “split out four characters,” meaning that four characters are to be extracted from the lines; because part of the text is missing, the exact wording cannot be restored.

Presented to Wang Houtang of Xianyi Abbey (the Abbey of Revealing Marvels)

If one wishes to find a shortcut in cultivation, one must keep hold of mind and intention and not let the monkey of the mind and the horse of the will run out of control. Once one no longer clings to any person or any affair, what need is there to ask about the intertwining of turtle and snake (a common symbolic expression in Daoist cultivation)?

If one constantly keeps the spirit terrace (referring to the mind and to Shen, spirit) clear and lucid, the true breath (the inner breathing spoken of in cultivation) will of itself continue long and unbroken. The immortal maiden within the heart is fair of countenance; this is the original face.

Presented to An Baozhen and Others

The fish is trapped in a lost ford and a sea of suffering, drifting with the waves. Someone, in a leisurely way, sets out fragrant bait and lowers the hook; at a single cast, the fish suddenly turns its head.

This, too, is because the karmic affinity accumulated in the past runs deep, so that every disturbance can be set aside. Where does the road ahead begin? One must resolve to become the leader of the immortals.

To rise beyond the sea of suffering, one must first sever attachment and emotional love. The hardships and perils of former days are all to be leveled, and one no longer travels remote, forking, and crooked paths.

Seeing through the illusory vanity of the world, one no longer gives rise to doubt or deluded thoughts. One walks forward with ease, each step set on the proper Dao (the Way) that leads to Penglai (the legendary realm of the immortals).

Once one has realized what it means to leave home and cultivate the Dao, one must rely on a resolve that does not waver. Even if all kinds of distracting thoughts arise in the mind, they are to be dissolved through diligent practice.

In dealing with others, do not give rise to partiality; one should put the benefit of others first, and not begrudge it even if one oneself suffers loss. Only when inner cultivation and outer conduct are both brought to completion can one go to Yaochi (the legendary immortal realm where the Queen Mother of the West dwells) to attend the jade banquet.

The great Dao draws no distinction between noble and base; everyone can cultivate to fulfillment. Do not let all manner of clinging arise in the heart; thought after thought should return to purity and stillness.

Once this principle is understood, there is no need to bend the body and weary the form in pursuit of outward formalities. The mind is bright and pure, gleaming like the icy moon, able to shine through and dispel ignorance (the folly that obscures true nature) and reveal the root-nature one originally possesses.

Some who leave home to cultivate the Dao wear a look of seeking the true and yearning for the Dao that truly invites sighs and pity. They keep away from meat and abstain from wine and strong-smelling foods, yet they turn the life of renunciation into a ceremony of mere appearance.

Alone, they sit in stillness with eyes closed; before others, they can only talk about Chan principles. The moment something fails to suit their wishes, they flare into anger at once. This shows that, at the root, they have misunderstood the insight proper to cultivating the Dao.

There is no need to speak constantly of the ancients’ gong’an (the stories and sayings by which the Chan school awakens students); come, rather, and display the house style of one’s own tradition. Striking the zhai bell at midnight, in the third watch (the bell that summons the assembly to the meal or to the purification rite), is precisely the wondrous function of cultivation in our house.

Forms that appear in the void are clear and bright, like the moon’s reflection in water. The principles conveyed by these two expressions are originally the same; it depends on how you comprehend and apply them.

The principle handed down by the patriarchs—with what words is it to be explained? And what is there to say of the orthodox transmission? If one can only move the lips and work the tongue, the very opening of the mouth has already strayed from the proper Dao and turned away from the principle of purity, stillness, and emptiness transmitted by the immortals. The flower in the void and the moon in the water are, as expressions, one and the same principle; it depends on how you comprehend and apply them. What is called “dual extinction” means that the distinctions on both sides are alike extinguished.

How can the methods of the Dao (the Way) transmitted by the patriarchs be put into words? And of the orthodox purport, what is there to discuss? To rely on mere talk is already to stray from the true Dao and to turn one’s back on the mind-seal handed down by the immortals and perfected ones (the purport of transmission from mind to mind).

Principles such as these are by nature hard to illustrate by example; still, I will not shrink from the labor, and will set them forth briefly. Every affair and every thing in the world discloses a complete principle; what matters is whether, beneath the words, you can grasp it and recognize it.

In Thanks for a Fellow Daoist’s Visit

I am dull and clumsy, weary of chasing worldly gain; my temperament is idle, and I love only to live in the mountains. Favored by your glad invitation, my fellow of the Dao, we have been able to form this fine bond and together savor its subtle delight.

I wish only that you may slowly enter the Dao of long life, and go further in realizing “xuwu” (what Daoist teaching calls the realm beyond distinctions of tangible form). Set down the toil of the dusty world, cast off the mind that frets over the myriad affairs, and go on into the depths of the high, distant white clouds.

Four Poems, “A Stream of Cloud by the Golden Cauldron,” Originally Titled “A Stretch of Cloud over Mount Wu”

Presented to Sun Zhidao and Wang Juyi

Those who live in the bustling marketplace worry over their livelihood; those sunk in the red dust chase fame and profit. All day they bustle and sigh without cease, yet have no way to shake off their troubles and draw near the misty mountains and waters.

If one realizes that human life is brief, like a dream, then the immortal halls of Penglai (the legendary dwelling of the immortals) are in fact close at hand. When hungry, eat; when thirsty, drink; when weary, sleep. Beyond this, the mind holds nothing more.

Another

The wind has ceased, and the clouds have just scattered; the tide lies level, and the waves have grown still. At my ease I paddle a small boat, with straw cape and fishing rod, angling by the river.

The scene is truly intoxicating.

If one realizes that human life is brief, like a dream, then the immortal halls of Penglai are in fact close at hand. When hungry, eat; when thirsty, drink; when weary, sleep. Beyond this, the mind holds nothing more.

Another

The wind has ceased, and the clouds have just scattered; the tide lies level, and the waves have grown still. At my ease I paddle a small boat, with straw cape and fishing rod, angling by the river.

The blue sky is as clear as water, and still more the bright moon hangs high, the breeze soft. A pity the fish will not take the hook; I can only stand alone on the quiet, flowered islet.

The Metaphor of the Skeleton

Day after day one is lost in beauty and wine; day after day one contends for wealth and shows off strength and temper. Suddenly the span of life reaches its end; the body is buried in the grave, and only the remains lie exposed in the wilds.

However one may have strutted and shown one’s prowess in life, the former appearance cannot be restored. I urge people to grasp this principle early, to leave the entanglements of the world, and to cultivate the true Dao.

The Metaphor of the Puppet

The face is carefully made up, and the parts of the body are fitted together, so that it can perform all manner of mincing, affected movements. Who would imagine that it is nothing but a puppet worked by another?

It shakes its head and sways its shadow, day after day rushing about and performing on the stage. Once the strings that draw it snap and the manipulation stops, one understands at last that all of this was only a temporarily assembled illusion.

“Xiaochongshan”: Setting Forth What I Feel

I have suddenly awakened, cast off the toil of the dusty world, and leapt free of the cage. The many cares stored up in my breast have now all turned to empty nothingness. Beyond the mundane world I wander at ease, content to be like one dull and unknowing, and no longer to reckon and contend.

Truly to leave the dust of the world behind is indeed a fine family tradition. Opening the door

Xiaochongshan

Giving Voice to the Heart

All at once I awaken and leap free of the cage of worldly toil. However many cares once filled the heart, they have now all turned to emptiness. I wander at ease beyond the secular world, content to be like a dull-witted person who neither contends nor argues.

To be truly detached from the vulgar and at ease—this is indeed a fine family tradition. Open the door, and pines and mountain peaks come into view. The bustle of the red dust cannot fly this far; I dwell among the white clouds.

A heart set on the Dao (the Way) is not the same as a heart that chases private gain. I open my breast, recline on high and rest in quiet, letting myself be idle and unhurried.

Six Poems, “Jin Jian Called Yuhua”; Original Title: Jianzi Mulanhua

Encouraging Friends on the Path

The wondrous Dao of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection)—the Quanzhen method of cultivating the Dao—begins by thoroughly laying down the self and all attachment. To bring the wondrous Dao of Quanzhen to completion, one must gather in Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit).

Once merit is fully cultivated and one’s attainment in the Dao is complete, even this body of flesh is no longer a concern. When cultivation reaches fulfillment, one goes to pay homage before Master Danyang, the teacher whose style-name is Danyang.

Another

Through Wuwei (non-action) and pure stillness, let the dragon and the tiger coil about and knot together, returning to great stability—a deep settledness in which mind and spirit abide, undisturbed by external things. Pure stillness and Wuwei bring child and mother into harmony—the corresponding Yin-Yang, or the inner Jing and Qi, in cultivation—so that going out and coming in follow one another.

Free and at ease, one comes and goes with nothing to cling to. Roaming in freedom, whether in mountain forests or in the marketplace and the court, one can rest at peace with oneself.

Another

When others say who is in the wrong and who is in the right, once this is seen through, one knows it is all a small matter. Other people’s talk of right and wrong is like a spring breeze passing the ear; there is no need to take it to heart.

To cultivate true practice and carry out true good deeds, do not give free rein to the horse of intention and the monkey of the mind—a figure for restless thoughts that are hard to control. True cultivation means, through all twelve double-hours, continually refining Qi and nourishing body and mind.

For the Dao Friends of Luojia Village

Around Luojia Village, winding waters circle the hills and set one another off. Here the mountains and streams are beautiful and the people worthy and good; they revere the great Dao, esteem the cultivation of the true, and widely form bonds of good affinity.

You invited me here and provided for me with earnest care, your kindness without end. There is no other way to repay this favor; I only wish that every household enjoy blessing, long life, and peace.

For Mr. Hu

You are a descendant of the Zilin lineage. Your speech is pure, elegant, and far-reaching, beyond that of ordinary people. You were born with a numinous, refined bone structure and an uncommon frame; your bearing is upright and shows a manner that rises above the dust of the world.

You honor the Three Teachings, revering the Buddha, respecting the Confucian teaching, and also practicing the great Dao; and in secret you nurture the immortal embryo—the inner foundation of the immortal Dao spoken of in cultivation. Before long the white lotus may be seen opening in fierce fire.

Offered to the County Lady of Pengwei, Wanyan Minghui

The cold is at its full strength, and all things drive their roots deep and bind branch and stem tight. The leaves of the mingjia (a legendary auspicious plant said to grow and wither with the waxing and waning of the moon) have all opened, and immortals descend from the precious terrace into the human world.

May you have the bearing of the pine and the poise of the crane. Set down what encumbers you, still the mind, and keep the fast, rising above ordinary people. I wish you long life: may blessing and span of years increase together, enduring as vast as a city heaped up from mustard seeds.

Eight poems to the tune Tayun Xing (“Treading the Clouds”), originally titled Tasha Xing (“Treading on Grass”).

Self-Dispelling (consoling oneself)

The water Qi (vital energy) of ren and gui has just risen, and the fire Qi of bing and ding has already descended. Water and fire come and go and blend, nourishing the growth of the yellow sprout (an image in Neidan (internal alchemy) for the newly formed elixir). The spirit lad plucks the yellow sprout and sends it to the Jasper Palace (a palace in the realm of immortals), while reed pipes of the sheng kind sound a clear welcome to the immortals.

The tiger’s roar gives rise to an auspicious wind; the dragon’s turning lifts snow-white waves. By genuine work of refining and nurturing, one sets in motion the creative transformations of heaven and earth. Cinnabar is refined, clear as moonlight; walking among the clouds, the radiance of Shen (spirit) shines bright.

Another

Clarity and stillness are the household way of taking one’s stand in life; Wuwei (non-action) is the practice kept from day to day. Within this there is a further true message and a wondrous principle. Though the state is yaoming huanghu (deep, obscure, and beyond what words can describe), one can still reach the most hidden principles.

On the summit of Seven-Treasures Mountain and in the Palace of Fivefold Radiance (both images of immortal realms), one drinks at ease of tihu (a metaphor for the purest and most marvelous flavor). Awake, one seems drunk; drunk, one is clear again—drunk and then awake, awake and then drunk.

Another

The world’s affairs are many, and the feelings of the dusty realm are tangled. Recalling them in a quiet hour, one finds them truly laughable. Glory and decay, gain and loss—when will such changes ever cease? Rise and ruin, success and failure—in what year will the turns ever end?

Alive today, one may not be preserved tomorrow. After hearing of Kang (so the original reads; perhaps a personal name or an allusion), one should see clearly and grasp the Dao (the Way) of Wuwei. When cultivation and meritorious practice are both complete, one may go with the clouds and, smiling, point toward the immortal isle of Penglai.

Presented to Licentiate Li of Anshan

Enough, enough of those literary phrases, the zhi, hu, zhe, and ye. Since you have awakened, you should lay them down, layer by layer. Teaching the young and untaught and passing on their studies exhausts the spirit; do not drift on in the old way until your hair is white.

Time flies like an arrow; how can one bear to let it pass in vain? I earnestly explain to you the secret of cultivating immortality. If you are willing to climb that branch of crimson cassia (a metaphor for seeking the immortal Dao and attaining realization), I wish to gaze with you upon the moon of long life.

The Uncle and Nephew, Licentiate Liang of Luojiazhuang, Devoutly Found a Hermitage

Before Changling Peak and behind Luojia Village, the hills gather in a ring and the waters wind along their course; the scenery is clear, bright, and lovely. If a Daoist hermitage were built here now, one might in time, by means of it, come to grasp the secret of cultivating immortality. May practice advance as one climbs a single bough of red cassia, and may I, together with you, enjoy the bright moon that symbolizes long life.

The uncle and nephew, Scholar Liang of Luojia Village, devoutly donated land for the building of the hermitage.

Before Changling Peak and behind Luojia Village, mountains and waters encircle the place, and the scenery is fresh and graceful. If a Daoist hermitage is built here now, it should in the future draw immortals to arrive one after another.

This new lyric is written for the moment as praise and as a wish. Good fortune, virtue, and auspicious affinity have existed since ancient times. Uncle and nephew for a time form this affinity of purposeful action—an affinity joined through concrete good deeds such as building the hermitage—and their descendants will long enjoy boundless longevity and blessing.

Presented to the people of Chongdao Hermitage in Luojia Village and of the locality of Changchun.

The place is named Changchun, and the hermitage is named Chongdao. The deep mystery held within the hermitage is hard for ordinary people to understand. May the numinous, refined Qi (vital energy) of Changchun never wither, may the heart that reveres the Dao (the Way) not be lost, and may the karmic affinity of the Daoist path continue without end.

Outwardly, one should keep far from noise and turmoil; inwardly, one should seek the principles of the mysterious and subtle. Always cherish a mind of patient endurance and humble lowliness. When the wind of wisdom scatters the clouds and mist upon the ridges, the bright moon that symbolizes original nature shines in full radiance.

Presented to Yang Deyuan.

His Daoist style-name is Anxian, and his religious name is Deyuan. Both the religious name and the style-name carry meanings that serve cultivation by skillful means. One who abides in peaceful leisure should always let original nature roam free and at ease; to grasp the sense of “Deyuan” is to return to what is true and purely good.

Outwardly he seems simple and unpolished, yet inwardly he understands the work of cultivation. In practice, circulating the work and advancing the fire is like joining battle. The golden crow—the golden sun that symbolizes Yang Qi—flies toward Qujiang Pool, and the jade toad—the white moon that symbolizes Yin Qi—leaps forth from the Hall of Thorough Brightness. These images describe, in Neidan (internal alchemy), the movement of Yin-Yang and the changing signs of the stages of the work.

Another piece, a lyric that Yang Deyuan asked to have composed.

The Dao is originally beyond words; if one forces the search and the demand, one can only borrow poetry and lyric to explain it with difficulty. The human being’s original condition embodies and accords with the true and constant Dao, able to meet differing situations and respond to the ten thousand affairs without the least obstruction.

In every coming and going one can move freely in all directions, and right before the eyes there is a clear, unhindered realm. If, on hearing these words, you dare to take them up and realize them yourself, then without moving a single step you may pass beyond the Three Realms—the Realm of Desire, the Realm of Form, and the Formless Realm.

Three pieces titled Gazing toward Penglai, originally named Gazing toward the Southland.

Presented to elder brother Zhongwu, written on his coming to visit.

I often cannot help laughing, for people understand the principles of delusion and awakening in entirely different ways. Wealth, rank, and splendor are what you pursue in life, while clarity, quiet, and ease are the way I live. I rest with my head pillowed high, dwelling amid the mountain mist and the glow of the peaks.

The Dao (the Way) of long life has a savor all its own, and the pleasure of quiet refinement is indeed beautiful. In leisure I keep company with the thousand-year crane, emblem of longevity; in idleness I watch the turning of the four seasons and flowers that bloom and never fade. Where, after all, are the immortals to be sought?

Sent to Military Supervisor Wang of Peach Grove Pass

Military Supervisor Wang is of noble birth, and his reputation for integrity has long been known abroad. By chance we met among the ridges of the green mountains, and sat together lingering beside the Jade Spring. As we talked and discoursed on the Dao, each of us could grasp the principles in it that accord with truth.

After we part, I fear there may be no further affinity by which we might meet again. I worry only that your subtle nature may be beguiled by desire and attachment; so, not minding the roughness of my words, I set down these nearly unrestrained verses and lodge my intent in brush and ink.

Sent to Cultivated Talent Zhang the Fourth

You of the Qinghe clan, please hear me speak of the fundamental principle in this. In the past you never met the ferry that carries one beyond the sea of suffering; now, as your years advance, you remain entangled by worldly feelings and social ties.

The realm of splendor is illusory and unreal, and it cannot last. Do not dream within a dream again and again, nor go on seeking the mysterious within principles already mysterious. You should repair the “heaven within the cavern” inside yourself—that is, cultivate body and mind and preserve the inner realm of clarity.

Three lyrics to “Wusu Nian” (“Thoughts Free of the Vulgar”), originally titled “Niannu Jiao”

On Bamboo, respectfully composed to the rhyme of the Perfected Changchun (Changchun zhenren)

A single tall stalk of bamboo is endowed by nature with an upright grace and stands alone especially austere. Its shadow falls beyond the railing and before the window, secluded and refined, nothing of the common kind.

Inwardly the bamboo is hollow and unassuming; outwardly it shows a lofty integrity, far surpassing ordinary plants. When it quietly intones the wind and moon, its tones are like ice striking jade, clear and pleasing to the ear.

Its plain substance and graceful form win one’s affection, as if they could draw immortal cranes to roost and phoenixes to alight; through all four seasons it delights the eye. Layer upon layer of lush leaves gleam soft and bright, and the slender branches gently shimmer with green.

The curving roots coil like a dragon. The scent of the bamboo is fresh, carrying the clean fragrance of greens and bamboo shoots, its savor surpassing rich grain and meat. The bamboo is fine and elegant, and lets me share in this lasting blessing.

The Ninth Day

Mist in the mountains sets off the clear green of the hills; as the west wind stirs, the Double Ninth, the Chongyang Festival, comes round again. Red leaves and yellow flowers interweave and set one another off; scenery such as this is truly like a painting.

In former days, whenever this occasion came round, one would dress in splendid robes, play instruments of silk and bamboo, set a banquet to enjoy the music, and raise the cup in unrestrained drinking. Now, looking back on the past, all of it seems like an illusory dream.

Once one has the affinity to awaken and enter the Mysterious Gate—the gate of the Dao (the Way)—none of the many worldly attachments of feeling should be clung to in the slightest. Brushwood fences and thatched cottages set one another off; the place is clean and quiet, and a refined elegance is kept at all times.

All day one remains silent, and all night one does not sleep, willingly bearing this pure stillness and ease. Who can share my aspirations and talk with me of non-arising (the principle of transcending birth and death)?

Lamenting the World

Sun and moon move swiftly, secretly hastening people toward old age; the hair at both temples, as if it recognized the years, has already taken on threads of silver. One bustles about the whole day and still does not awaken, only because household affairs entangle one and press upon body and mind.

Empty fame is as trifling as a snail’s horn, and meager profit as tiny as a fly’s head; even if they are gained, of what use can they be? While the body is still sound, it is best to seek the path of cultivating the Dao and attaining immortality.

Empty fame and slight profit make people cling and refuse to let go; one then finds expansive ease beside the water and upon the rocks, laughing in proud freedom and chanting verse. A single spirit elixir (shendan, the spiritual pill in Daoist cultivation that symbolizes the elixir successfully refined) shines with brilliant light and frees one from entanglement in worldly feeling.

The heart is open and at ease; one roams in freedom, content and self-possessed, and grasps the true principle. When the work of cultivation is complete, one departs, to dwell forever on Peng Island (the legendary immortal mountain in the sea) and take a place among the immortals.

Four Lyrics to the Tune “Linjiangxian”

An Admonition on the Debate between Buddhism and Daoism

Chan and the Dao need not, in their origin, be argued over or distinguished; it is only that the sages of old strained to set them forth by means of names. Those beyond the ordinary world (people who transcend the secular and practice a religious path) need not vainly weary the body. Everyone has the possibility of awakening; each person’s original nature is complete.

One need only set down the myriad cares in the mind, and one must be sure to rid oneself of ignorance (the delusion that obscures mind and nature). In the Grove of the Giver to the Solitary (the Buddhist sacred site, Jetavana Monastery) one walks about in perfect freedom. Where the mud ox (symbol of the inconceivable principle of Chan) roars, at high noon it is as if the bell of the third watch has been struck.

Presented to Shi Yuxian and Others

Bow to those who walk the same path of cultivation, receive their instruction, and do not let the years pass in vain. Constantly maintain awareness and contemplation, so that the mind that seeks the Dao stays firm. Bear with the faults of others, and correct one’s own deviations as well.

As for one’s proper portion, there is from the beginning no clinging to a distinction between you and me; in quiet leisure, discern the root of the true Dao.

In the highest original source, there is from the beginning no distinction between “self” and “other”; one need only, in quiet leisure, recognize the root of the true Dao (the Way). If one is deluded by the false aggregation of body and mind, thoughts of clinging and attachment arise, and one sinks forever into the sea of affliction and suffering, scarcely able to realize Daluo Heaven (the supreme immortal realm spoken of in Daoism).

Evening Scene

At evening, a faintly cool breeze blows in through the doors and windows. I sit alone among the pines and rocky cliffs, chin resting on my hand in thought. Climbing high and gazing far, my sight stretches all the way to the horizon: a solitary city lies wrapped in mist and the shadows of trees, bleak and desolate; on a distant bend of water, a single sail returns.

The azure sky for ten thousand li is clear as water; the clouds rest at leisure and do not stir in the least. The sky is bright and clear, shedding a pure radiance. This perfect radiance embraces the entire Dharma Realm (the world constituted by all things in Buddhist and Daoist thought), and its numinous, refined light shines toward the Jade Pool (the legendary immortal realm where the Queen Mother of the West dwells).

Playfully Composed on Hearing the Cuckoo

A leisurely heart never grows weary; it is content and at ease, forgetting clever artifice and calculation. At dawn, a light rain has just drifted past the window. Emerald clouds and blue-green peaks encircle all around, and the cuckoo can still be heard calling.

Each cry calls out “better to return,” its voice bright and clear. I have now reached the time when I ought to return. When merit and practice are complete, one naturally ascends upon the clouds and rainbow mists. Why trouble oneself with clever argument, urgently pressing one another?

The Guest upon the Green Lotus Pond (originally titled “Qingyu An”)

Presented to Wulinda Derun

Now that one has awakened to the toil of the dusty world, it may be counted as something personally experienced. One ought to cast off showiness and return to simplicity.

Always keep a gentle, humble, and yielding heart; do not give rise to craving or jealousy; words and deeds must correspond. In quiet leisure, if no disordered thoughts arise, one naturally comes to appreciate the subtle and mysterious interest within that leisure.

One must cultivate the Three Fields day and night (the upper, middle, and lower Dantian [energy centers] spoken of in Daoist Neidan [internal alchemy]). Only when Yin Qi recedes and Yang Qi increases, when Qi (vital energy) gathers and the inner elixir is formed, may one be called a person who cultivates the Way of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection).

Two Poems on the Immortal in the Yellow Crane Grotto (originally titled “Busuanzi”)

Shown to the Assembly

I earnestly advise all who cultivate immortality to be often deeply calm and patient. Even when meeting every kind of hardship and every sort of demonic obstruction, let one’s resolve grow still firmer, and do not alter the original aspiration.

The heart of the practitioner ought to be like bright moonlight, clear and still, reflected beyond the lofty sky. Let the work of cultivation turn without partiality, reaching throughout the vastness of heaven and earth; so long as one believes firmly and without doubt, one can master the myriad things that are like drifting clouds.

Presented to Cheng San

Human life is like a candle flame swaying in the wind; who is willing to turn the mind back and examine oneself? The bonds of affection and care before one’s eyes tightly entangle the heart, and people often fail to perceive their own suffering.

Fortunately the path of cultivating immortality remains, and one may practice it with ease and freedom. Roaming at leisure everywhere, letting the heart be free; when merit and practice are complete, one may dwell in Pengying (the legendary immortal mountains).

The springs and the mountain rocks are secluded, still, and beautiful—truly a place suited to cultivating the Dao (the Way) and sojourning in retreat. Fragrant breezes drift about, and colored clouds display auspicious signs; the weather is warm and gentle, and from time to time rare birds come here to sport and linger.

The fine scenery of a mountain dwelling sets off the pleasures of life in the hills so that they feel wholly complete. The outer landscape is abundant and lovely, and inner cultivation answers it in kind. Beside the elixir furnace, dragon and tiger meet, symbolizing the mingling and transformative circulation of Yin-Yang Qi (vital energy).

Nü Cha and Ying Jiao are terms of Neidan (internal alchemy), referring to the changes of yin and yang Jing (essence) and Qi in the course of refinement and nourishment. Again and again they urge me to drink the “Golden Liquor” (a Daoist term of cultivation, meaning the precious essence refined within). I grow intoxicated in it, and wish only to recline at ease amid scenery lit by clear rosy clouds.

Guangdao Wang Santian is sincere by nature and skilled at making oil noodles. He blends and prepares the oil noodles, working them over and over according to differing needs, and whatever he produces is governed by the intention of the mind.

He follows right principle and tempers his work in the “furnace of long life” (a vessel for preparing things that nourish life); knowing how to seize the moment, when he draws out the finished product it proves indeed wondrously distinctive. The product gleams with bright luster, and its fragrance strikes the nose.

Taste it, and the flavor is exceptionally sweet. It is truly exquisite, fit to be offered at the banquet of the immortals.

One who knows how to follow right principle, temper the work in the “furnace of long life,” and, once the moment is grasped, draw out the finished product, finds it indeed wondrously distinctive. The product shines dazzlingly bright, and its fragrance fills the air.

Tasted, it has a specially sweet flavor; it is truly exquisite, fit to be presented at the immortals’ banquet.

Kang Deji shares with you a deep bond from former lives, and early on awoke to this: a human life in the world is nothing more than a dream. You turned back your great ambitions, set your whole heart on entering the Dao, and all at once let go of worldly affairs and swept them aside.

If one wishes to leave the cycle of birth and death, one must discern what the original root really is. I have a most certain principle to tell you, and I will also lay bare for you a simple path. The crux lies in cultivation within everyday life.

Keep clear and still, accumulate inner practice, and in dealing with the outer world hold the heart in equanimity. Gradually dispel craving and anger, harmonize Shen (spirit) and Qi, and do not let the “mind-monkey and will-horse” (a figure for restless, unsettled thoughts) gallop on without cease.

When black clouds for ten thousand li disperse, a single point of numinous light grows clear and bright. In this way the path of the immortals can be walked with a steady step, and in this response one may be spared a change as drastic as casting off the embryo and altering one’s form.

Why do I appear dull-witted and artlessly blunt? Only because the manifold affairs of the world I have lived through again and again, and seen through to the bottom.

One passes each day by letting things follow their natural course, craving nothing. Dwelling in a cloud hermitage, a quiet abode for cultivating the Dao (the Way), one drinks when thirsty a clear draught as sweet as the finest clarified butter—a metaphor for something exquisitely fine and delicious—and the more one drinks, the sweeter it tastes.

And again: carefree and at ease, open-hearted and without sorrow, one pays no heed to the turning of the years, to spring’s going and autumn’s coming. One simply lies down in peace in an open expanse, pasturing the white ox, often used as a metaphor for taming and settling body and mind. As the evening cooking-smoke disperses, one sings a song aloud at the ancient ferry.

And again: one neither keeps the fasts and precepts nor reads the Jing (scripture), nor…

And again: carefree and at ease, open-hearted and without sorrow, one pays no heed to the turning of the years, to spring’s going and autumn’s coming. One simply lies down in peace in an open expanse, pasturing the white ox. As the evening cooking-smoke disperses, one sings a song aloud at the ancient ferry.

And again: unbound by the fasts and precepts, one neither reads the Jing nor speaks of the Golden Elixir, a term of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy), or of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). At leisure one plucks a jade zither just as the bright moon hangs high; the notes, clear and far-carrying, resound through all twelve stories of the Jade Terrace, the legendary towers of the immortal realm.

And again: with an iron ox one constantly tills the three fields—the three Dantian (energy centers), sites in the body used in Neidan—and the yellow sprout that is planted, a term in internal alchemy for the elixir at its first arising, gradually grows to maturity. The rain of the teaching, a metaphor for the wondrous Dharma that nourishes cultivation, waters it time and again, and it flourishes all the more. Once it has been gathered in, one carries it to the Jade Capital, the celestial capital of Daoist legend.

And again: how many can learn to be as free and unrestrained as I am? I have already drawn away from the ties of the dusty world and scattered the sorrow in my heart. Leisurely playing a Qiang flute and riding the white ox—what a cause of perfect ease this is! Steering the four great divine boats, one roams at will.

And again: human beings possess true nature from the start, and this true nature is what is called the immortal. Only because one loves quiet seclusion does one keep far from the noisy marketplace. Living alone in a mountain dwelling, the subtle pleasure is the most profound and far-reaching. The mind is calm and at rest: when glad, one sings aloud; when weary, one sleeps in peace.

And again: the four seasons succeed one another as swiftly as a weaver’s shuttle, and a hundred years pass in the space of counting on one’s fingers. The wish is only that everyone may walk out of the bitter sea of craving and desire and nurture chonghe, a peaceful and rightly centered state of mind; when the merit of cultivation is complete, one ascends to Daluo Heaven, the highest heaven of which Daoism speaks.

Because two old friends of noble lineage met on the same day without having arranged it

In idle ease one often thinks of those noble friends; now, fortunate enough to meet, talk and laughter never cease. All should diligently cultivate Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit)—what Daoist practice commonly calls the root of life—so that the work of cultivation reaches completion, and together they go to feast in the springtime immortal realm of the Peach-Blossom Source and the emerald grotto.

May everyone walk out of the bitter sea of craving and desire and nurture chonghe; when the merit of cultivation is complete, may they ascend to Daluo Heaven.

Four pieces entitled Haolixiang, originally titled Nanxiangzi

A warning to the world: human beings are immortals from the very beginning; only because they once gave free rein to the mind-monkey and the will-horse—a metaphor for thoughts that scatter and are hard to restrain—did they lose their original nature. To shed the embryo and exchange the bones, and to transform form and spirit, one must…

Worldly feelings and attachments tangle with one another and are hard to escape. If one can understand and hold to the root, mercury and lead may gather within the jade tripod and golden furnace—a figure drawn from the language of Neidan (internal alchemy) for the refining and nourishing of body and mind. When three thousand merits and practices have been fulfilled, one may return to the original source and go back once more to Pengying (the legendary immortal isles upon the sea), no longer subject to change.

Snowy Night

I lived in seclusion in Qingshen Cavern on Mount Kunlun and often practiced deep into the night. That day, after sitting for a long time, snow began to fall before I noticed. In the night the air grew a little warmer; meltwater dripped from the rock face and seemed to carry a sound. I suddenly rose and went out to look, and found that the scenery of the mountains all around had entirely changed. Leaning against a pine, I wrote this lyric.

I had sat a long while, and my eyes grew gradually heavy; I had not expected Heaven to display so auspicious an omen. In the night the weather suddenly turned warm, and I heard water dripping on the cliff, sound after sound.

The sound of the water woke me from a dream in which the Shen (spirit) was roaming. I put on my shoes, drew back the bolt, and looked out toward the peaks on every side, only to find that the whole scene had changed.

Only that tall pine was different in its inborn nature. Pressed by frost and snow, it remained firm and unyielding. Standing alone beside the deep, secluded cliff, it manifested the Dao (the Way) of clarity, stillness, and steadfast holding.

To My Clansmen

My forebears lived in Lizhou. An immortal surnamed Li came from there and said that kinsfolk and friends had heard that the master had entered the Dao many years before, yet did not know to which branch of the Wang family he belonged.

To My Clansmen

My forebears lived in Lizhou. An immortal surnamed Li came from there and said that kinsfolk and friends had heard that the master had entered the Dao many years before, yet did not know to which branch of the Wang family he belonged, and entrusted me with writing to inquire. I therefore composed this lyric and sent it to them.

Let me speak for a moment of my origins and my course of life. The cycle of birth and death—where is there an end to it? Yet the human heart is obstinate, infatuated with passion and desire, and so clinging grows ever deeper.

Long years pass, and one has still never returned to one’s original home. By good fortune I met Patriarch Chongyang (Wang Chongyang, one of the founders of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition), who set forth the Quanzhen methods of cultivation for leaving the world.

I send word to my clansmen in the hope that all of you may awaken and consider this carefully. This principle has been so since ancient times; it does not belong to any one branch of the Wang family.

For Cui Miaoxin

A true teacher, able by a vast and profound discipline to lead others beyond the world, is truly rare. Fragrance, flavor, form and color, and sound can scarcely stain or obstruct him; this must be understood.

Even when worldly affairs surge like rushing water, his resolve remains as firm and unmoving as the bank.

See this clearly; do not doubt, and do not waste your practice in chasing what lies outside.

Whether sitting, lying, pausing, or walking, keep the inner mind settled and continue in watchful reflection. In the instant between the blink of an eye and the lift of a brow, who, then, is the true master?

Two Lyrics to the Tune Qinlou Yue

On the Pine

That recluse who dwells amid mist and roseate clouds stands tall and upright, secluded beside the deep cliff. There beside the secluded rock, though frost may assail and snow bear down, there is not the slightest hindrance.

Pine branches coiled like a horned dragon… In the instant between the blink of an eye and the lift of a brow, who, then, is the true master?

Two Pieces to the Tune Qinlou Yue

In Praise of the Pine

The pine is like a lofty recluse dwelling in the mountains and forests, growing tall and upright beside a deep, secluded cliff wall. However frost and snow may assail it and press heavily upon it, they do not hinder it in the slightest.

Its sturdy, aged branches stretch out and sway, as if reaching beyond the cold clouds. Its inborn bearing is truly delightful. The pine’s color is a rich green, and it possesses a distinctive integrity of character all its own.

In Praise of the Bamboo

Bamboo is pure and steadfast by nature. Its supple branches and tender green leaves are as beautiful as scenery in a painting. Through all four seasons it keeps company with the clear breeze and bright moon of the thatched hall.

Standing aloof, tall, and erect, with firm joints that will not yield, it is different from others by nature. Hollow within, it turns inward in humility and does not decline over time. Its verdant shade sways with graceful poise, and the sound it gives forth is pure and pleasing, as if carrying an auspicious Qi (vital energy).

Five Pieces to the Tune Fenglou Wu

Expressing One’s Feelings in a Mountain Dwelling

Before the eyes there is nothing but verdant pines and bamboo, screening the dwelling in the mountains. What in glory or disgrace is worth taking to heart? I chant alone and pour fine wine; its flavor is rich and mellow, and once drunk I sleep in my clothes. Waking from a clear dream, my mood is not yet spent, so I take up the jade zither once more and play a melody that realizes the principle of non-birth.

Who is the understanding friend who can hear me and keep me company? The clear breeze and bright moon of the thatched hall are perhaps willing to accompany me.

Sent to a Fellow Follower of the Dao (the Way)

The affairs of the world are tangled and restless—what is worth being troubled over? People turn without cease between birth and death, like a wheel revolving and never stopping. Fortunately there are exalted Perfected (in Daoism, Zhenren who have succeeded in cultivating the Dao) who have opened a gate of the teaching, leading people together onto the path of non-birth, that is, the path that transcends the cycle of birth and death.

Those who walk this path should heed what they are charged to do: receive instruction with a devout heart, concentrate single-mindedly on mindfulness of the Dao, and set aside distracting thoughts. The work of cultivating purity and stillness is clear and evident, and those who cultivate the Dao may then meet constantly upon the path of non-birth.

An Exhortation to Those Who Go Viewing the Spring

Tender willows let their branches droop, and blossoms bright as gold burst into brilliant bloom. Everywhere in the gardens the colors of spring are pleasing; a fragrant breeze brushes the sleeves and fills one with ease. Before the eyes are countless scenes of leisurely beauty, as if all were meant to adorn the light of spring.

Those out enjoying the spring ride on horseback in lively groups, showing a cheerful, childlike manner. They do not notice that, amid the flourishing scene, youthful faces have already quietly changed. In the end, things endowed with feeling cannot withstand the passing of the years. I earnestly speak these words to those who seek the spring and admire the flowers.

Hearing an Oriole in Late Spring

The brief days of spring press upon us—how can they pass so quickly? Bright sunlight and a gentle spring breeze once more send off the spring light that is drawing to a close. Gradually one hears the oriole calling from the tips of the branches, its voice winding and prolonged, as if pouring out the feeling in its heart.

Yesterday the blossoms were still in full bloom, the whole tree a vivid crimson; today the flowers have already fallen, scattering in every direction like floss borne on the wind. I earnestly urge the travelers of the world to awaken in good time, and not to lose the path of returning to the True upon which they first set out.

Three Days Before Qingming, Addressed to the Assembly After a Light Rain Had Passed

Those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) should carefully cut away attachments and forget passion and desire. Sun and moon revolve at great speed, and the years rush swiftly by. Qingming is nearly here again; every household ought to use fire with caution and take care to guard against fire.

A mild and harmonious breath fills heaven and earth; it is a beautiful season. Fine rain drifts down gently, not failing the signs of spring’s arrival. The work of creative transformation in bringing the myriad things to growth still continues; immortal flowers gradually open and give forth their fragrance.

Three Pieces on Ascending the Cinnabar Empyrean (originally titled “Shang Ping Xi”)

To the Rhyme of Zhang Ziyun

When one attains true ease and grasps true delight, one can be like duckweed and tumbleweed, unbound by external things. Let the shifts of fate be what they will—whether hardship or smooth going, one meets them in peace. Life is pure, quiet, and plain; for twenty years one has no longer sunk into drinking and pleasure.

Meeting every kind of affair, one can turn back to observe one’s own heart and break through delusion; the mind is clear and bright as a mirror, yet it is not a mirror of bronze. At times one acts in the dusty world as conditions allow; at times one dwells in seclusion among green cliffs and pine groves.

Inheriting the model and manner left by the two patriarchs Tan and Ma, one accords with the movement of creative transformation and spontaneously harmonizes “tiger” and “dragon”—a metaphor, in Neidan (internal alchemy), for the blending of the two Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang. To become an immortal and ascend, contending for a place in the foremost ranks within the immortal realm of Shangqing (Highest Clarity)—how dare one be idle or slack?

Another

Cast off showy fame and profit, forget the bonds of the secular world, and life surpasses the tumbleweed that whirls with the autumn wind. One delights in heeding Heaven’s mandate, and whatever one meets, one passes through it calmly and without obstruction. Content wherever one finds oneself, one seeks only the warmth and sufficiency of a single meal; why, on reflection, should one covet a rich stipend?

Willing to dwell at leisure and keep to plain simplicity, enduring pure poverty—how could one still care about money? Companioned by immortal friends amid the glow of rose-colored clouds, one invites the clear wind and the bright moon as company, sits on a stone beside the stream, and faces cliff and pine.

This is the house style of cultivating the Dao: open and unhindered, transcending the dusty world. “Cooking gold and refining jade” is a metaphor for the practice of Neidan: one regulates and moves Yin-Yang, causing the “female tiger” and the “mysterious dragon” to join. Now one realizes once more that every tie in the world returns at last to emptiness and illusion; the heart-mind is already weary and chases after them no more.

Entering the Dao

Death and life press on without cease; the round of rebirth crowds in upon one, so that one is long enslaved with no term of rest. Living beings rush and contend at the ford of delusion and in the sea of suffering. Fortunately one has met an age of sagely brilliance; true immortals have vouchsafed their teaching, delivering living beings out of delusion.

Thereupon one suddenly awakens, understanding that human life is as brief as a dream, and no longer prizes the wealth and enjoyment of which the world speaks.

Life and death press people onward, and the cycle of rebirth is urgent—when will the toil of a human life ever come to rest? People rush about along lost paths and in a sea of suffering. By good fortune we meet an age of sagely brightness: true immortals let down their teaching to save and deliver the many who have gone astray.

A person suddenly awakens, and only then realizes that a whole life has been like a dream; the former pursuit of wealth, rank, and enjoyment grows distant and slight. Thereupon the hair is disheveled, the face stained with grime, the expression dazed as if drunk, and the features appear dull and foolish.

Dwelling at leisure in a quiet place, one concentrates on inquiring into principles that are deep, hidden, and subtle. After an auspicious omen is received, one reckons that few in the dusty world can understand the reason behind it. A numinous wind brushes past, heaven and earth settle into stillness, and moonlight spreads over Huaxia and the four quarters.

Chaozhongcuo: Two Poems

Casting Aside the Vulgar

The path of official life is like flowing water; gain and loss drift away with the eastward current—when will they ever stop? Whether princes and marquises or common people, death is inconstant; when the appointed term arrives, no one can hold it back.

Far better to loosen the bonds of fame and profit, and so be spared a great deal of needless sorrow. When, in time to come, the Three Elixirs—what Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) calls the three Dantian (energy centers), or three kinds of elixir Qi (vital energy)—congeal pure and true, one will ride the clouds to Yingzhou, the legendary immortal mountain in the sea.

Matching the Rhyme of Master Sun Yuanming

One lets go completely of the affairs of the dusty world, accords with Heaven’s mandate, and passes the days at ease through years without bound. Alone enjoying the clear breeze and bright moon of the thatched hall, the mind calm and plain—why boast of this to anyone?

In this life I seek only to be free and unfettered, refining cinnabar in the precious cauldron. When the work of the ninefold turning of the elixir is complete—the process, in Neidan, of forging again and again until one gradually reaches perfection—I shall drift lightly aloft and roam toward the dwellings of the immortals upon the sea.

Suzhongqing: Three Poems

The Ninth Day

At the fine festival of the Double Ninth, one’s spirits are especially deep and full. Climbing high and gazing far, the scenery brings delight: the sky is vast, the waters clear, the mountains graceful, and frost-touched leaves fall among the sparse woods.

Such a scene adds refined pleasure and moves one to chant verse in a low voice, while the vexations of the dusty world briefly subside. Flagon and cup are filled; elegant music sounds once more—yet who can truly understand this intent?

Following an Ancient Rhyme

Deep within auspicious clouds and Qi is where the immortals dwell; I lie with pillow raised, amid mist and rosy vapors. Harmonizing and guiding the inner scenery and the movements of Qi, I bring the jade hare—commonly used to stand for Yin Qi, the Qi of Yin within Yin-Yang, or the essential Qi of the moon—into accord with the crow, commonly used to stand for Yang Qi, or the essential Qi of the sun.

Content with plainness and simplicity, one abandons frivolous show and keeps far from empty honor. In cultivating the self one honors the Three Teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism); within, one reveres the Three Luminaries (sun, moon, and stars); and upon the head rest the Three Flowers, a term of Daoist Neidan, often the sign that Jing (essence), Qi, and Shen (spirit) have been cultivated to completion.

For Elder Wei

The reason for your great longevity is that you are deeply intoxicated with this way of living. As the evening sun slants westward, you face the sunset glow at the sky’s edge. In a moment the hair has turned entirely white, and can no longer be black as a crow’s, as in youth.

The teeth gradually loosen and fail; the eyes seem covered by a layer of gauze, their luster no longer what it was. And how is the time of later years any different? It is like rain striking a wutong tree that mourns, and wind shaking branches of flowers gone wild.

Three Poems to the Tune of Xingxiangzi

Singing of Myself

With clouds and water for company, one may make a home anywhere, far from empty fame, profit, and luxury. In cultivation the three palaces—the sites of inner refinement in the body associated with Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit)—rise and descend, their movement coordinated without the least discrepancy.

One resolves to form the spiritual embryo, the state in Neidan (internal alchemy) that symbolizes completion of the elixir, to draw in the spiritual substance and gather the spiritual sprouts, the subtle vitality born of practice. This pure, secluded pleasure stretches far and long; beyond it, what else is there to seek? One gives way fully to joy and drinks freely of the flowing aurora, the auroral immortal wine of immortal lore.

When the great elixir is refined, one boards the immortal raft—the wooden raft of legend that travels to and from the realm of the immortals—and drifts home. Then one wears fine jade at the waist, sets jade pendants swaying, and crowns the head with blossoms of jade.

Remembering My Master, Whose Daoist Name Was Baiyunzi, Whose Name Was Dangui, and Whose Courtesy Name Was Changling

From youth he understood that he must leave the dusty world, refining mercury and cooking silver—a term of Daoist Neidan, meaning to take body and mind as furnace and cauldron and to nurture Jing and Qi. He knew how to discern the transformations of creation within the gourd. Harmonizing the tiger and the dragon within the body—in the art of Neidan, figures commonly used for interacting forces such as Yin-Yang, Jing, and Qi—he nourished the yang Qi just coming to birth.

He manifested the countenance of remotest antiquity, the face of the primordial beginning, and the original body and mind. With clouds and water as neighbors, he kept ever close to wind and moon. Only one who penetrates the mysterious and subtle principle may be called Quanzhen (Complete Perfection)—a complete return to the true Dao (the Way).

Recalling the Master’s kindly teaching, his words and deeds differed somewhat from those of ordinary people. His courtesy name was Changling, his name Dangui, and his Daoist name Baiyun.

To the Assembly, Again Using the Previous Rhyme

Why speak of roots and dust—a term shared by Buddhism and Daoism for the bodily faculties and the dusty realm outside—and why argue over lead and silver? The paths of cultivation in the way of the immortals and in the Buddha’s teaching were clearly distinguished from the start. What need is there to seek outside, or to weary the spirit in vain?

If one wishes cultivation to reach completion, one should return wholeheartedly to the Dao and let original truth appear. All is originally one and should be regarded equally, without estrangement and without distinguishing near from far. Will and intent remain ever clear, ever still, and ever true.

Practice is not only for one’s own benefit, but also to help others. In the end one will condense auspicious light, bring auspicious signs to fulfillment, and depart upon auspicious clouds.

Four Poems to the Tune of Manluhua

Thanking My Daoist Friend of Changli for Coming to Visit

Early on I forgot the entanglements of the world, lodged myself among clouds and water, and lived in a corner at the edge of the sky. Ranges of peaks surround a plain dwelling, and here I rest content in simplicity and dullness.

Life is lonely and spare; in silence I hold to original truth. My deep thanks to you, Daoist friend Chongzhen: staff in hand you came from afar, sparing no toil, to visit my mountain dwelling.

How regrettable that the tradition of the school grows more desolate by the day, and that the prevailing spirit of purity, stillness, and emptiness has likewise grown faint. Propriety between one person and another remains complete, yet close and intimate contact is rare. I have often counseled you with subtle words, hoping you would understand this painstaking care.

The path of cultivation ahead is not smooth; one must recognize and realize the original wondrous principle. Within all things there is a share of numinous light; this inherent nature is originally perfect and complete, lacking nothing and needing nothing added.

What in the world brings the greatest pain? To speak of it is truly to worry on your behalf. All that lies before the eyes endlessly arises and perishes; scenes shift without rest, vast and without bound.

Empty fame and meager profit should be taken only according to one’s capacity, with less craving. Fortunately a favorable season has arrived; one may as well, while the mood lasts, set ordinary affairs aside for a time and seek out companions of the roseate mists and clouds (those who keep company with the immortal Dao [the Way]).

Rarer still, you suddenly awaken and turn back, and from then on roam freely beyond the mundane world. Clad in a loose cloth robe with sleeves spread wide, how unrestrained and at ease you appear.

The tangled affairs of the dusty world are therewith canceled at a stroke. Carefully temper and polish the innate treasure (the spiritual nature originally and inherently possessed), until it shines bright, just like the clear moon in a cloudless autumn sky.

The seasons succeed one another without cease; cold and heat take their turns. Time flies as swiftly as a white colt flashing through a narrow crack, and so it has been from antiquity to the present.

At dawn, countless households laugh as they celebrate the New Year. Yet who is willing to turn the light of the mind back and see oneself? Black hair and a youthful face gradually fade, and the hair at the temples slowly turns streaked with white.

May everyone early awaken to the root of life and seek the mysterious and profound principle. Beneath the clear breeze and bright moon of the grotto-heavens and blessed lands, cultivate the embryonic immortal (the realm of immortals and perfected beings spoken of in Daoism).

Refine the daogui (a technical term of Daoist cultivation; here, the essence obtained through practice) until it is full and luminous, and condense it into one perfect Great Elixir. Bearing it, set foot on the road to the azure empyrean, transcending birth and death step by step; though the blue sea turn to mulberry fields, mind and will do not waver.

The southeast is graced with beautiful scenery; looking out, clouds and mist wind among the mountains. Seas and mountains gather the spiritual excellence of heaven and earth and nurture outstanding worthies.

The people there mostly perform good and auspicious deeds, still their distracting thoughts, and keep far from clamor. Here they follow friends and revere one another, inquire into the mysterious truth, and together cultivate the causes and conditions for transcending the secular world.

May you from this time be still more firm in the resolve to cultivate the Dao, and early realize Chongxuan (in Daoist thought, the state of transcending level upon level and entering ever more deeply into the mysterious principle). Cultivate diligently, and bring Dao-nature to maturity.

May I from this moment firmly set my heart upon the Dao, and soon come to understand Chongxuan (the Daoist philosophical idea of breaking through attachments layer upon layer). Diligently cultivate and nourish body and mind until the practice is accomplished, like a lotus born from the midst of fire.

The pure fragrance is rich and full, passed on from generation to generation. When, in time, the merit of cultivation is complete, one may flick one’s sleeves, mount the clouds, and rise straight beyond, becoming a supreme immortal who transcends both the human world and the heavenly realms.

Two Lyrics to the Tune Yuezhong Xian (Immortal in the Moon)

Fanzhao (Returning Light)

Through many kalpas I remained dull and confused, bound by affection and love, clinging without awakening. People contend for superiority, scrambling amid great waves and floodwaters—how could they notice that they themselves are sinking?

Fortunately I have awakened in this life. I flick my sleeves and depart, open my heart, and go as I please. Looking back on what came before, those old traces have instead become obstacles set against the Dao.

I drift as a person of pure leisure, at ease beneath the shade of green pines and amid swirling white clouds. Sometimes I chant, sometimes I talk and laugh, passing the days in accord with circumstance.

When evening comes, a further touch of refined delight is added. I look up at the sky, clear and limpid as bright green jade. The moon gradually rises, its radiance plain to see, and I too will resolutely leave the Three Isles (the legendary immortal mountains in the sea) and transcend the dusty world.

Gazing at the Sea

The summer heat gradually recedes, clouds and mist disperse, and across the four directions mountains and sea stand clear and fresh. Climbing high and looking afar, I see only a vast ocean stretching eastward for ten thousand li, as if without end.

Heaven and earth are open and broad, wind and waves are calm, and auspicious signs appear again and again. How great is the body of Xuanyuan (an honorific name for the Dao)! Clear and boundless, it seems to bear and set in motion the workings of heaven and earth.

Its wondrous function and sagely power are hard to fathom. One trusts that the turning of the Guixu (the legendary place to which the sea waters return) has never ceased, and that the transformation and generation of the myriad things unfold from this. It lets all things expand and change, leaving cloud-vapors to fly and fish and dragons to roam as they will.

This vast, harmonious scene remains beautiful and unfading through a thousand ages; the Three Isles and the Ten Continents (legendary immortal realms upon the sea) glimmer in distant foreign regions. Only after cultivation is accomplished may one ride a whale, roaming free and laughing in proud ease, and depart in transcendent freedom.

Two Lyrics to the Tune Qitian Yue (Joy Equal to Heaven)

The Fortunate Encounter

Realizing that this floating life is like an illusion, one should quickly let go of affection and love. Even with a grimy face and disheveled hair, clad in hemp cloth and a paper jacket, one should wander freely to the ends of the earth.

Blunt the hard, sharp spirit; hold to softness and pure poverty; forget sorrow and shame. Restless thoughts, like an unruly horse and a monkey, suddenly come to rest and vanish without a trace.

This subtle and profound truth, set before the clear blue sky, carries a resonance all its own. Chanted by the mouth and spoken by the tongue, it is from the very beginning without the slightest constraint or hindrance.

I often bow in reverent worship, and have been fortunate to receive my teacher’s personal guidance—the support and instruction he gave me in those years. In time to come I shall still follow my teacher in study, and together we shall go to the Peach Banquet (the great assembly at which immortals gather in Daoist legend).

For Cai Dehou

By every means possible, the aim is to set forth the principles of cultivation one by one. The Dao (the Way) is deep and secluded, its hidden workings far off; one must devote full diligence and painstaking effort.

The years of youth pass in an instant. Thinking of that favorable time when the Dao flourishes and the cultivation of the True comes to fruition, how could one bear to let it slip away in vain? This affinity for cultivating the Dao, once lightly missed, will afterward be very hard to meet again.

I solemnly entrust these words to you: facing the states of cultivation you have already passed through, examine them with care, and do not let your understanding go astray. Let the candle of the inner spiritual nature shine brightly, so that the flower within the heart opens in brilliant bloom and gives off an endless pure fragrance. Cultivated in this way, one will naturally call forth a response from the exalted perfected (the high divine perfected beings venerated in Daoism) and receive their unseen protection. When cultivation reaches fulfillment, one may set foot on the road that leads to the Cinnabar Empyrean (the celestial court of the immortals, as Daoism speaks of it).

Five poems to the tune “Drunk in the Peach Spring” (Zui Taoyuan), originally titled “Young Ruan Returns” (Ruan Lang Gui)

For the Second Young Lord Diaowulinda

The prominence, wealth, and rank of this life are an affinity cultivated in a former existence; I tell you this clearly. Turn back while there is still time, awaken to the root of cultivating the Dao, and do not be bound by worldly circumstances.

Seek out the secret essentials and inquire into the profound principles, refining mercury and lead in the furnace—a symbolic expression for Neidan (internal alchemy). When true inner work and true conduct have been accumulated to the full, one may ascend and become a great immortal.

For Aunt Zhao

The path of cultivation is level and plain, so long as one firmly cuts off passion and desire. When deviant thoughts and idle fantasies no longer entangle one, the Three Corpses (spirits that, as Daoism teaches, dwell in the human body and obstruct cultivation) will naturally grow weaker.

Whether sitting or lying down, pausing or walking, one should always maintain a quiet clarity, and must not forget. One day the spiritual nature will suddenly appear, and light will flash forth.

For Preceptor Zhao

With only a few words I part the darkened path for you, so that worldly feelings and thoughts are cut off at once. Form and emptiness, emptiness and form, are without distinction; the true principle within them is not illusory.

By constantly preserving clarity and stillness, so that body and mind accord with the original Dao (the Way), one can leave the road of the cycle of birth and death. In the limpid pool a solitary moon of innate nature hangs alone, its light shining toward the four directions.

Presented to Gulun, Precept Master Shanyuan

The original spark of spiritual nature is called “Muni” (in Buddhism, a title for one who is serene and awakened). Dignified and majestic, it stands beyond the ordinary. Adapting to circumstances and responding to all things, one lets it unfold of itself; complete and luminous, it accords with the measures of Heaven and Earth.

At times it manifests in action; at times it conceals its subtle function. Wondrous light comes and goes without obstruction. So long as one recognizes the true Dao and is convinced without doubt, one may accompany the clouds and rosy mists back beyond the dusty world.

Presented to the Storehouse Commissioner, County Lady of the Wanyan Clan

The whole family turns toward the Dao with one heart, their faith firm, all because of affinities formed in former lives. Their cultivation is strict and grows ever more concentrated and diligent; this sincerity is truly precious.

Heeding instruction and awakening to principles of the finest subtlety, certain and without doubt, one may accompany the clouds and rosy mists back beyond the dusty world.

Presented to the Storehouse Commissioner, County Lady of the Wanyan Clan

The whole family turns toward the Dao with one heart, their faith firm, all because of affinities formed in former lives. Their cultivation is strict and grows ever more concentrated and diligent; this sincerity is truly precious.

Heeding instruction and awakening to subtle words and principles, one gradually sets aside the toils of the dusty world. Nourishing the inner spirit and the breath so that both become long and steady, when merit and practice are complete one naturally realizes the way of the immortals.

Five Poems, “The Heart-Moon Illuminates the Cloud Stream,” Originally Titled “Mu Shan Xi”

Expressing Feelings on Dwelling in the Mountains

Having already left the dusty world, troubled as a house on fire, ordinary affairs can hardly bind one any longer. Beyond the secular realm one enjoys freedom and ease, far removed from corvée labor and taxes.

Wearing coarse cloth and eating plain food, one rests content in one’s lot and lives according to conditions. Beside green peaks and amid white clouds, one alone possesses pure leisure.

A single thatched hut accords exactly with the wish of a lifetime. Within, one asks only room enough for the body, and cares nothing for the least showy ornament.

Doors and windows shut fast, all around is still, and one may sleep at ease as one pleases. Even when the sun has already risen two or three pole-lengths, the brushwood gate remains firmly closed.

Another

Five peaks stand tall and graceful; the mountain mist is a deep, moist green, as if about to drip. The mountain’s force is majestic, as though pressing upon the vast sea; facing misty waves and cloud-billows, one cannot see the end.

Deep among bluish-green rocks a Daoist’s dwelling lies half hidden; here one may sleep as the heart desires. Even when the sun has already risen two or three pole-lengths, the brushwood gate remains firmly closed.

Another

Five peaks stand tall and graceful; the mountain mist is a deep, moist green, as if about to drip. The mountain’s force is majestic, as though pressing upon the vast sea; facing misty waves and cloud-billows, one cannot see the end.

Deep among bluish-green rocks a Daoist’s dwelling lies half hidden. Here one forgets honor and disgrace, cuts off pride and self-regard, and sees through the varied conditions of the human world.

With mountains and wilds in the heart, and a mood turned toward what is remote and secluded, who would still envy the wealth and rank of dukes and ministers? At leisure one turns the subtle mysterious mechanism (the wondrous workings of cultivating the Dao [the Way]), watching the dragon and tiger (symbols commonly used in Daoist cultivation) circle and join, as if at play.

The tender infant and the lovely maiden (symbolic terms in Daoist Neidan [internal alchemy], often referring to the Yin-Yang Jing [essence] and Qi [vital energy] in cultivation) meet and laugh together, celebrating the completion of the Golden Elixir. When the work is accomplished one departs, treading upward upon clouds and rose-colored mists, and fair auspicious signs appear.

Presented to Wei Derou: There Is Demonic Obstruction in the Household; For the Time Being, Have Him Herd Sheep

When one first studied the Dao, it was in hope of casting off the entanglements of the dusty world. Later, demonic obstructions (disturbances and hindrances encountered in cultivation) gradually arose, because for a time there was a certain stagnation.

You should see this clearly, hold to it with care, and neither delay nor grow slack. Let the will be decisive and firm, single-minded and diligent in its progress, and you will of yourself come to taste another savor of pure stillness.

When herding sheep, watch the flock well and do not be negligent. At the least sign that the sheep are running wild to the east or the west, the master must correct and stop them at once.

When pasturing among the mountains and woods, drive the sheep home early. As the sky grows late and the sun is about to set, be sure to fasten the gate of the fold securely.

A Parable of Herding the Ox

The ox is stubborn and unruly by nature, forever running and contending. With a short staff and a long rope one must constantly drive and lead it, hold it firmly under control, and restrain it with decision.

Out in the morning and home at dusk, after long training the ox gradually grows gentle. It grazes on fragrant meadows and beside the winding river, and even spends the night in the open, its body covered with frost and snow.

The herd-boy is at ease and unhurried, his heart full of joy. He sits alone in the shade of an ancient pine and plays a short flute; the notes carry far, yet hold something low, lingering, and winding.

He sets his straw raincoat and bamboo hat in order once more, claps his hands, and returns laughing. The clear wind blows strong, the sky is limpid, and moonlight appears over every household.

Presented to Zhao Debei

All who enter the Dao and cultivate should abandon a life of splendor early on. With a manner gentle, humble, and yielding, they rest content in pure poverty, constantly wiping clean the spiritual terrace (Lingtai—the mind and Shen [spirit], the inner heart) so that it remains clear and bright.

The moment a worldly mind arises, one should think of the impermanence of birth and death and awaken in good time. Taking alms-begging (going out to beg for food and solicit offerings) as one’s livelihood, one need not inquire into or reckon with other matters.

Sun and moon come and go, and every household is bathed in moonlight.

Presented to Zhao Debei

All who enter the Dao and cultivate should abandon a life of splendor early on. With a manner gentle, humble, and yielding, they rest content in pure poverty, constantly wiping clean the spiritual terrace so that it remains clear and bright.

The moment a worldly mind arises, one should think of the impermanence of birth and death and awaken in good time. Taking alms-begging as one’s livelihood, one need not inquire into or reckon with other matters.

As sun and moon revolve in turn, one must diligently refine and nurture the Prior-Heaven treasure (in Daoist Neidan, the Jing, Qi, and the like endowed before birth). In silence one nourishes the inner light, and with it illuminates worldly causes and conditions; the many ways in which people of the world are so often inverted and deluded will also gradually come into view.

Within the formless and the imageless there is still a subtle principle, and this principle is the most profound and hidden of all. When the work of cultivation is complete and De (Virtue/Power) has reached fulfillment, a celestial writ will of itself descend with its mandate.

“Awakening from the Yellow Millet,” Two Poems — originally titled “Swallows Returning to the Beam”

Presented to Liu Jiulang

What in the human world is most to be lamented? People lose themselves in the dusty world of vexation and turmoil, driven by every kind of affair, unable to find ease for even a moment.

Until what day can one truly rest? Clothing, food, and the needs of daily life, moreover, all depend on toil. What meaning is there in bustling about in vain like this?

Life and death press unmistakably before one’s eyes. Only the ability to set down these cares is the wise course.

Another

Empty fame and profit both scatter like flowing water; one ought not, in the end, trap oneself within them. The more one craves, the more failure and sorrow multiply.

Why seek vexation for oneself? May people see through it early and withdraw; every attachment of former days, let them all be laid down.

Lightly one rises beyond the dusty world and lingers no longer. If there is a destined affinity, someone will of themselves carry on as a companion of my Way.

“Autumn Clearing”

Expressing one’s feelings in the original rhymes of the ancients

Living in seclusion in a home far from the dusty world, one faces the southeast across ten thousand li, where the vast sea spreads its emerald waves. Amid gardens thick with thoroughwort and fields lush with lingzhi, warm winds bring wave upon wave of pure fragrance, and the spring scene yields nothing to the capital.

Pausing on a path ringed by long-lived pines, the tender grass underfoot is like a cushion, its fine patterns clearly visible. Just then an immortal crane again brings a summons; having only just returned from heaven, one can still hear it crying long across the nine heavens.

It is as if Heaven has granted me this fine span of time: within, the heart is lucid and still, and every anxiety has dispersed.

In a leisure moment one calls a young attendant to brew tea, watching the white foam float lightly in a jade bowl. The spirit is fresh and clear, the breath calm and even, and body and mind have no barrier with the world outside.

What is more, the great Dao (the Way) is constant and unchanging. The practitioner at every moment silently turns the mysterious work; the mind is limpid and tranquil, and through Wuwei (non-action) one finds contentment of oneself.

“Spring in Wuling,” Two Poems

Sent to Commander Chen of Qihe Town

Your fair name spreads far; you are humane and filial, and people near and far all praise you. I specially send this newly written lyric; please savor it with care, and early see through a life as illusory as the “yellow millet.”

When the aspiration toward the Dao has just begun to sprout in the heart, it is like a flower opening for the first time, delicately sending forth a pure fragrance.

A flower in the heart has only just bloomed when it gently releases a delicate fragrance. The fragrance drifts away on the wind and enters the ritual ground—the place for cultivating the Dao (the Way) and performing ceremonies. At once everything opens broad and wide, and auspicious signs appear.

To Liu Sizhang of the Pavilion of Lodged Joy

I have long heard of your devout wish to cultivate the Dao; all of this is affinity formed in a former life. When may I keep you company and become your neighbor and friend? May we cultivate together and find the road that leads out of going astray.

Live free and unfettered, passing the days by taking things as they come, and quietly guard and nourish your innate nature. Even in the midst of fierce fire, let the lotus bloom; let each day be made wholly new, and forever keep a spring that does not fade.

Four poems, “Refining Cinnabar,” originally titled “Waves Washing the Sand”

Presented to Sun Yi

When Sun Yi came to visit, he said that last night he, a disciple, had dreamed of the Perfected Danyang (Zhenren, an immortal venerated in Daoism), and that the Perfected wished to deliver the disciple so that he would leave the household. The disciple said that he still had no descendants and that the family estate was not yet established, and he feared he had no affinity for leaving the household; might he cultivate only while remaining at home? The Perfected laughed and said, “I said long ago that no immortal who leans upon a wife and holds a child remains at home. Does Master Pengwu not know this?” When he had finished speaking, the disciple awoke and did not know what to do, and so lyrics were composed and presented to him.

Bow to the immortal of Fuchun (the perfected being of Mount Fuchun), and hear me tell the reasons within. Entanglements like golden willows and jade twists bind a person tightly; what matters is to make the resolve oneself, and not to say that one has no affinity for cultivating the Dao.

The words the worthy sage spoke in the dream are truly no empty talk. Of all the affairs at home, one always means to wait until they have been fully arranged; yet if one still hopes that this single person will at the same time bring the fruit of the Dao to completion, it is as hard as digging in the earth to search for the sky.

Presented to the female devotees Guo Shouyuan and Guo Shanzhi

I earnestly advise the two from Fenyang (female Daoist clergy from Fenyang, nüguan, that is, Daoist nuns), and speak briefly of the way of advance and retreat in cultivation. If one has the affinity to enter the gate of the Dao, one should reduce the affairs of the dusty world one by one, abandon one’s shortcomings, and follow one’s strengths.

In daily practice one must light the incense fire within the heart, turn the light back upon the inner mind, and gather in the mind and Shen (spirit). When demonic obstacles and hardships are met, one must still dare to bear them. From beginning to end, do not change the original intention, but go steadfastly toward the immortal realm of Penglai.

Presented to the female devotee Zhang Shanxing

In plain words I offer sincere counsel, and I ask the community who cultivate in purity to listen. No one had expected it, yet white hair has already grown at the temples. Impermanence (death) waits ahead—what is there still worth welcoming, or worth worrying over?

Only by cultivating in earnest can the ground of the mind be made broad and peaceful. Do not let the familiar realms of the past entangle you any longer. Even if one has erred before, one should correct those errors often; in this way merit and practice will naturally come to completion.

Presented to Aunt Tudan

Set your resolve and look with longing toward the prospects of the immortal Dao (the Way). When faced with favor or disgrace, the heart may still feel stirred. The profound intent of the Daodejing of the Ancestral Master of the Dao—the classic of five thousand words—has already been learned by heart, and it no longer sets confused thoughts in motion. Wrongs committed in the past must henceforth be corrected all the more often, and one’s practice will naturally come to fulfillment.

Presented to Tudan Gugu

Set your resolve and look with longing toward the prospects of the immortal Dao. When faced with favor or disgrace, the heart may still feel stirred. The profound meaning of the Daodejing has been understood through and through. Thus the hundred rivers all flow into the sea; the sea lies in a low place, and only then can it receive the many waters and become full.

A superior practitioner dwells in the world without contending, taking gentleness and humble yielding as the way of establishing oneself. Outwardly one responds to the myriad things, yet inwardly one remains clear and still. Practicing the great Dao in this manner, the mind is often level and at peace, and every step is as if one were walking toward immortal realms such as Penglai and Yingzhou.

Three poems, “Awakening from the Southern Branch Dream,” originally titled “Nankezi”

In Reply to Chang Xianzhi

When one sits in stillness, the mind is at ease, and a secluded dwelling is likewise a delight. One quietly beats the celestial drum—a method of nurturing life in which the fingers lightly tap behind the ears, on the head, and in similar places—and then rinses and swallows the cloud sprouts, the Daoist name for saliva and the fluids of the mouth. In a continuous, unbroken manner one exhales and inhales, regulating the breath, and according to one’s own condition nurtures body and mind and passes through daily life.

If only one knows how to rest content with the turns of fate, why worry over the succession of worldly affairs and the changing of scenery? The jade immortal road that leads to the Three Mountains—the legendary immortal mountains of the sea—is not far. Before one has set out, one may for the time being lodge amid green mountain hues and brilliant clouds and rosy mists.

Presented to Liu the Sihou, Who Takes Joy in Affairs

Apes and dark birds are indeed fine companions in a quiet mountain dwelling, and springs and rocks feel as familiar as near neighbors. The red sun has already risen three poles high, as if it were about to shine before the gate. After waking, one rises unhurriedly and for a while leisurely draws near this life free of affairs and free of care.

The mysterious valley—the deep and subtle place within the body of which Daoism speaks—holds the methods of cultivation of sages through the ages. The Mud Pill, a term of Neidan (internal alchemy) referring to the upper Dantian (energy center) in the head, gathers the hundred spirits. If one applies even a little effort to nurturing innate nature, keeping far from harm and preserving life, one may enjoy the happiness of clarity and stillness, and what is gained will be no less than yours.

Caught in Rain at Mingzhou, Delayed and Lingering with Daoist Friends

This carefree Daoist of the white clouds has no worldly affairs to bind him. In his leisure he thinks of clouds and waters, mountains and forests, and so he comes down from the mountain screen, rides a lame horse, takes a young attendant with him, goes out to transmit the Dao, and passes through the Eastern Sea.

The summer heat quietly withdraws, and the autumn wind is especially fresh and crisp. Fine rain falls without cease, and the sky has never cleared. His companions in the Dao mean to keep him and are slow to let him go out the door.

Three poems, “The First Tier of the Jasper Terrace”

The Birthday of Great Master Cui

As the years turn, the season falls in the tenth month, precisely the time of the little yang spring. The Old Man Star, the constellation that symbolizes longevity, shines brightly; the Jade Rope hangs low, and the Silver River is suspended on high.

At dawn, auspicious Qi (vital energy) gathers. One celebrates this banished immortal—an immortal sent down to the human world—who has just descended among humankind in a carriage of cloud. His birth must rest on a fine karmic affinity. Pure and beautiful De (Virtue/Power) in conduct will gradually become manifest, and the golden lotus, an image of the lotus commonly used in Buddhism and Daoism, will bloom once more.

One floats free of the mundane world, sweeps away every worldly feeling and thought, resolves to return to clarity and stillness, and receives the primordial Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth, just as the season of Little Spring arrives. The Old Man Star (the constellation that symbolizes longevity) shines with bright splendor; the Jade Rope stars hang low, and the Milky Way is suspended on high.

In the early morning, auspicious Qi gathers to celebrate the banished immortal (an immortal demoted to the human world) descending for the first time in a cloud chariot. This, one may suppose, is a beautiful karmic affinity: pure, elegant white flowers gradually open in full bloom, and the golden lotus blossoms once again.

One floats free of the mundane world, sweeps away every worldly feeling and thought, resolves to return to clarity and stillness, and receives the primordial Qi of Heaven and Earth. With cauldron and furnace one cooks and refines the elixir and turns the River Cart, the method in Neidan (internal alchemy) of guiding the circulation of breath, so that elixir Qi fills the upper, middle, and lower three Dantian (energy centers—the places in the human body where Jing (essence), Qi, and Shen (spirit) are refined).

Where radiance appears in the Cavern Chamber (in cultivation, the realm of inwardly refining Shen and Qi), Tiger and Dragon, together with the Infant and the Lovely Maiden (symbols of Yin-Yang Jing and Qi in the art of Neidan), are brought together in fullness. This foretells long life and lasting vision, a span of years as prolonged as that of the tortoise and the crane, enduring forever.

The Lantern Festival

As the round of the seasons keeps advancing, the Lantern Festival comes once more, and word of spring has already arrived. The disk of the moon has newly grown full; the lantern lights, like golden lotuses, have just burst into bloom, and there is no need to plant them on purpose.

Streets and lanes alike are decked out. The Ao Mountain (the mountain of colored lanterns at the Lantern Festival) rises high, its splendor shining upon towers and terraces. People vie with one another to go; fragrant carriages and precious horses gather, and men of talent roam and race to their hearts’ content.

We who cultivate the Dao (the Way) have already forgotten the envy and pursuits of the secular world. Deep within the Crimson Palace (the dwelling place of mind and Shen) we guard the immortal embryo (the Jing and Qi condensed in Neidan cultivation). One senses a rich fragrance of flowers and a bright light of wisdom—a peace and harmony of another kind.

Jade liquor and rose-gem nectar (the sweet dew drunk by the immortals) flow and congeal into a daogui (a minute dose of the elixir), its flavor no less than the fine wine in the cup. Giving oneself wholly to joy, one lets the luan bird come in welcome and the phoenix lead the way, and sets off to roam and feast at Penglai.

The Birthday of Grand Minister Wu

Yin Qi has reached its extreme and Yang Qi begins to rise; it is precisely the season of severe cold that answers to the pitch of Huangzhong (the first of the ancient twelve pitches, corresponding to the winter solstice). In former years at this time, white clouds spread and drifted, and the Qi of good omen was clear, bright, and fair.

Yuheng (one of the seven stars of the Northern Dipper) turns without a sound; the Bow and Arrow stars of the south appear, and the starlight grows brighter still. The immortal minister descends into the human world, and gradually there come into view the mild winds and bright sun of Langyuan (the gardens where immortals dwell) and the cool moonlight of Pengying (the moon palace, or the immortal mountains upon the sea).

The bearing of his life is uncommon; his natural gifts are rich and outstanding, and in his youth he already made his name and established his career. Now, in accord with the Dao of Heaven, he withdraws to cultivate his vast, flood-like Qi, so that his peers admire him for it.

On the journey a small banquet is set; friends and close companions are gathered, and cups are raised in free drinking. After drunkenness comes clarity once more: may you keep a character as pure as ice and as unsullied as jade, and enjoy a great longevity like that of the numinous chun tree.

Two Pieces to the Tune “Spring Comes from Heaven”

Presented to Li Zhipu of Mount Shouyang

Having already seen through the karmic affinities of the dusty world, one frees oneself from the entanglements of love and from the bonds of fame and profit, and no longer chases profit as tiny as a snail’s horn or a reputation as trifling as a fly’s head. Gladly brushing one’s sleeves, one departs, cutting off stray thoughts and forgetting worldly feelings; even toward worldly circumstances long since familiar, one must be careful, and not let them take hold of the mind.

Hold to a single aspiration, steadfast and undistracted, and simply practice with diligence, without asking how far you have traveled or how much progress you have made. Abiding in Wuwei (non-action), let the days pass in quiet ease, with the mind calm and clear.

Complete the cultivation in leisure, so that the meridians throughout the body flow freely and the four limbs are in harmony. The tiger crouches and the dragon coils (a metaphor in Neidan, or internal alchemy, for the regulated state of Yin-Yang qi within the body); the breath gathers, the spirit is unified, and in the end a perfected Great Elixir is formed (the crystallization of Jing, Qi, and Shen achieved through Neidan practice).

Spirit youths are summoned to sing and dance, and in a chamber wreathed in auspicious clouds, jade cups are filled to the brim. The heart is full of inexhaustible delight. Guard the root of life, and once the foundation is firm, one can nourish life for a long time and extend one's years.

Winter Solstice

The sun and moon never cease their course; the sun sets in the west and rises again in the east, and the four seasons quietly alternate. The day of the winter solstice is about to arrive, and every household rejoices, celebrating this auspicious day together.

People quietly calculate the shifts of fortune and welcome the first fresh sunlight beneath the eaves of the south-facing rooms. They examine the harvest to judge whether the year will be plentiful or lean, auspicious or ill-omened; at the Silver Terrace they record the clouds during the divination ritual of observing the heavens (a ceremony for observing celestial phenomena and predicting the seasons and omens), and the court historian writes down the results of the observation.

How great is Xuanyuan (a venerable title for the Dao)! The transformations of creation turn without rest. The plum blossoms gradually release their fragrance, and the bamboo by the railing also quietly shows signs of spring. The serene and unburdened recluse gathers a hundred blessings, silently nurturing the vast, flowing Qi and preserving his innate nature.

Comprehend the subtle Dao of emptiness, stillness, and harmony; follow the natural order of things, and set in motion the profound transformations between heaven and earth. As the year's cycle completes, the six Yin lines (the broken lines of the hexagrams in the Book of Changes) are about to run out, the Fu hexagram (the hexagram in the Book of Changes symbolizing the return of Yang energy) begins to appear, and pure Yang energy gradually returns.

Four Songs of "Recalling an Old Friend at Peach Blossom Spring"

Written in Reply to Secretary Zhao, Using His Rhymes

To live to a hundred years is truly rare in human life. How many people truly understand this principle? When friends meet, simply laugh with open hearts; why trouble over those pointless sorrows and worries?

The scenery of the four seasons is fine by nature. Open your heart wide, and you will come to see things plainly. Although the human body can hardly stay young for long, in the end one grows old slowly all the same.

Written in Reply to Secretary Zhao, Using His Rhymes

To live to a hundred years is truly rare in human life. How many people truly understand this principle? When friends meet, simply laugh with open hearts; why trouble over those pointless sorrows and worries?

The scenery of the four seasons is fine by nature. Open your heart wide, and you will come to see things plainly. Although the human body can hardly stay young for long, in the end one grows old slowly all the same.

Again

Melancholy thoughts and the many postures of worldly life: who knows how many there are? They tangle and cling, lingering far and wide, and who can tell them apart? One tries to force a pursuit of laughter and talk, over and over, only to have it turn once more into sorrow and vexation.

Spring flowers and the autumn moon are indeed beautiful, yet they are always lost to the pursuit of rank and fame. One has only just seen that the children are still young when, in the turn of an eye, one’s own face has already grown old.

Another poem:

Few people come and go in the Peach Blossom Spring (the ideal realm of reclusion and immortality). Alone, I greet the morning in a Dongtian (a wondrous realm where immortals dwell). Looking back on what has gone before, I cannot help but laugh; those past affairs only stir up needless attachment and vexation.

To make playing the qin and reading books one’s daily life is in itself already good. Playing a tune in the mountain hall, the mind grows clear and settled. If one constantly nurtures the embryonic immortal (a Daoist term for the inner Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit), or for the immortal embryo attained through cultivation), one may long abide by Huang-Lao (the Daoist thought represented by the Yellow Emperor and Laozi).

Again, using the preceding rhymes, and writing by means of hidden heads and split characters:

□ comes, and of the myriad affairs few hang upon the mind; □ in seclusion, one lets day and night succeed one another as they will; □ in solitary stillness, one simply talks and laughs, forgetting oneself; □ within limits, there is no need for sorrow or worry.

In idle seclusion the mind feels still more mild, harmonious, and at peace. After “mouth” and before noon, the daily practice is already complete; □ restores the aged countenance and returns one to youth.

Again, using the preceding rhymes, and writing by means of hidden heads and split characters:

□ comes, and of the myriad affairs few hang upon the mind; □ in seclusion, one lets day and night succeed one another as they will; □ in solitary stillness, one simply talks and laughs, forgetting oneself; □ within limits, there is no need for sorrow or worry.

In idle seclusion the mind feels still more mild, harmonious, and at peace. After “mouth” and before noon, the daily practice is already complete; □ restores the aged countenance and returns one to youth. □ examines the immortal Dao (the Way), and one may long remain unaging.

Two poems to the tune Shuidiao Getou

Secretary Zhao has again written the lyric of a person from the kingdom of Japan, and asked me to match it in song to the original rhyme.

The years race by like a flying arrow. People cling to worldly desires and chase after them in rivalry, without cease. The western city has only just welcomed the colors of spring when, in an instant, one is startled to find that autumn has already come.

Sun and moon take turns in succession, dividing day from night; people too age little by little, unseen, and willingly drift away with the passing light. Rather than this, how could it compare with seizing the time while the body is still strong, brushing one’s sleeves and leaving the secular world to seek a way out?

To open the mind and act in accord with one’s innate nature surpasses being enfeoffed as a marquis or appointed a minister. Wherever one may be, one is at ease and free of care, like a solitary boat.

So long as one accords with the great Dao, let others mock one for having gone wrong; shame and sorrow are forgotten together. Reclining high above the clear mountain mists, one chants poems and gives a long whistle toward the stone tower.

The birthday of Minister Zhao

Autumn colors shine into the tips of the woods, and the azure sky is clear and far-reaching. Beside the hedge, several clusters of yellow chrysanthemums open one after another, giving off a pure and elegant fragrance. From ancient times, the host of the Perfected (the assembled immortal realized beings) have, above the clear mountain mists, chanted and whistled before the stone tower.

The birthday of Minister Zhao

Autumn colors reach deep into the woods, and the clear azure sky seems especially vast and remote. Beside the fence, several clumps of yellow chrysanthemums open one after another, giving off a pure, refined fragrance. In former times, the assembled perfected—the many immortals who have attained the Dao (the Way)—spoke together in court assembly of the rise and decline of the human world; now they accord with the times and assist in bringing peace and stability to the age. They therefore hastily command that immortal guest who rides a whale to descend from on high on wings swift as a driving wind.

He receives the harmonious Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth, harbors sincerity, trust, and benevolent kindness, and serves with wholehearted loyalty and good conduct. He willingly takes on weighty responsibilities, ordering and directing affairs; his mind is broad, and his bearing grows still more expansive. Moreover, his reputation has long been outstanding, and his grace extends widely to those above and below, so that the people all hope to receive his protection. We offer words of praise, wishing you long life, that you may forever guard and bring peace to Anyang.

Four Poems on the Immortal of Long Yearning, originally titled Eternal Longing

Presented to Liu Zhichang of Pingshan and Liu Zhiben of Shenshan

Liu of Pingshan and Liu of Shenshan must change the habits of worldly people and become cultivators of the Dao. Do not let human feelings and worldly affairs entangle you.

Awaken, as one tames a fine steed; restrain the thoughts of the mind, as one reins in a fine steed. When the spirit-pearl—symbolizing inner spiritual clarity—shines with brilliant radiance, it can manifest freely of itself, and its light streams forth at every moment.

Presented to Li Zhichi of Yanzhou

Li Zhichi, in cultivating and holding to the Dao you must begin early. Quickly clear the thorns from the field of the mind; do not delay and hold back from setting your hand to the work.

Draw water from the Florid Pool—a Daoist term of cultivation, often referring to the saliva in the mouth or to the pure source within the body—and use it to irrigate the Florid Pool. Let the inferior horse and the frantic ape, figures for the body, mind, and thoughts that are hard to restrain, no longer gallop and thrash about. When cultivation is accomplished, you may ascend the jade steps and pay homage at court.

Presented to Liu Zhizhen of Pingzhou

Look with admiration to the Dao of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection), and dwell securely within Quanzhen. In every gesture and action strive to be upright and genuine, relying on a single mind to hold fast to the true Dao.

Unite with Heavenly Authenticity, and accord with Heavenly Authenticity. Through the twelve double-hours—each period of the day—guard the true nature within, so that the original face may appear in every place.

Presented to Song Zhihong of Pingzhou

Leave the confining cage and cast off every bond. Hold fast from beginning to end, neither changing nor wavering, and be sure to make your firm resolve clear.

Accumulate true merit; accumulate true merit. At every moment guard the true nature within, and in every place reveal the original face.

Presented to Song Zhihong of Pingzhou

Leave the confining cage and cast off every bond. Hold fast from beginning to end, neither changing nor wavering, and be sure to make your firm resolve clear.

Accumulate genuine meritorious practice and attain freedom from selfishness and desire, and you will unite with the vast emptiness. The Neidan (internal alchemy) within the furnace is naturally brought to completion, and a red light appears.

Cloud-Treading Shoes, originally titled Soft Turn-over Shoes

Dan Gu and others of Xuanzhen Abbey present shoes

We are fortunate to meet a time when the climate of teaching and transformation flourishes, and a harmonious, joyful Qi gladdens my heart. Those who cultivate in purity at Xuanzhen Abbey are all of immortal talent.

Your aspirations are modest and mild, respectful and compliant, and you constantly cherish hearts of compassion and kindness; you also earnestly present cloud-treading shoes, footwear worn in Daoist ritual or cultivation. The shoes are carefully cut by skillful hands, and jewels are inlaid on both sides.

Again and again one ascends the altar to pay homage and climbs onto the altar platform. When, in time to come, cultivation and merit are both complete, one will transcend the dusty world and proceed to the immortal realm of Penglai.

Huanxisha

On the Birthday of Liu Gugu

In the midsummer season, four lotus leaves have just unfurled. Immortal maidens, riding cloud-carriages, descend from heaven and bring beautiful numinous grace into the human world. Auspicious radiance and propitious vapors together encircle and uphold her.

The Dharma-nature she has realized (the original nature apprehended by one who cultivates the Dao (the Way)) is not burdened by the trifles of the dusty world, nor is her pure, numinous bearing constrained by worldly feeling. She will of herself enjoy a long life, like the immortal Magu.

Zui Taoyuan

On the Birthday of Zhao Gongshan

Three days before the birthday, the time falls precisely at Ruibin (one of the ancient twelve pitch-pipes, corresponding to midsummer). Immortals, riding carriages adorned with lingzhi, depart from Zichen (the imperial palace, also used to indicate the heavenly palace). Auspicious clouds, mists, and propitious vapors gather and coil about, jointly celebrating the birth of this Yuzhen (an honorific title in Daoism, here referring to the blessed immortal perfected one).

She is intelligent and quick of mind, her disposition honest, generous, and plain, and she often wishes for the company of the virtuous. The brief span of time in the human world is truly not worth dwelling on; within the Hutian (the immortal realm spoken of in Daoism), there is a springtime of another kind.

Su Zhongqing

Ascending Huangya on the Ninth Day

The Double Ninth Festival has come round once more for the year, and the scene before the eyes looks bleak and desolate. Climbing high and leaning on the railing, one opens the heart and, concentrating the Shen (spirit), gazes into the distance, the view extending all the way to the edge of the sky.

The autumn days grow shorter; the sky over the frontier seems low and heavy, and the wild geese fly south. Verses are inscribed on red leaves, and the cup is raised to chrysanthemum wine; until one has drunk to the full, one does not return.

Three Lyrics to Mulanhua Man

Mid-Autumn

Mid-Autumn has come again. The sun has just sunk in the west, and the night has turned slightly cool. Facing a screen like mist and a folding screen wreathed in cloud-vapor, one gathers with good friends and close companions—how refined and lingering the mood is.

Suddenly the bright wheel of the moon wheels upward and rises. Between the vast heavens and earth, it is as if it leapt from a broad expanse of water and ascended the Tiangang (the guiding cords of heaven, here referring to the vault of the sky). Moonlight breaks across ten thousand qing of glass-like water, and its bright radiance shines throughout the Three Realms and the Ten Directions (a way of speaking of the vast world in Buddhist and Daoist scriptures).

This is the moment to taste fire-jujubes and jiao-pears (legendary immortal fruits), and to enjoy the moon in pure elegance, which surpasses raising the cup again and again. One gives full expression to refined aspirations and far-reaching feelings; the mind is open and expansive, far from worldly dust, and every care is for the moment forgotten.

One thinks of how the wind of teaching and transformation has begun to flourish, and recalls with gratitude how Patriarch Chongyang (Wang Chongyang, patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition) used cryptic language to direct people toward huiyang (a term of Daoist cultivation, meaning to return to Yang Qi (vital energy) and restore living force). The fragrance of the cassia drifts over, as if the fine flavor of the nineteenth day had already been tasted in advance.

Using the Rhyme of Perfected Changchun

Looking back on those years, my talent came to light and I stood out from the rest; the feeling for the Dao in my heart was deep, and my ties of worldly affinity gradually grew distant. I loved ancient grottoes and deep streams, where dark pines and green cypresses flourished in rich verdure, and ten thousand kinds of scenery appeared all at once.

Three meals a day come to no more than coarse tea and plain fare, enough only to pass the time; to rest content in poverty and quiet leisure yields a savor finer than drinking and revelry. For a thousand years and more, people have lived in a drowsy, drunken dream; then one day they suddenly awaken and can see clearly the scene within the deep, secluded ravine, watching dark pines and green cypresses flourish together with all things.

Three meals a day come to no more than coarse tea and plain fare, enough only to pass the time; to rest content in poverty and quiet leisure yields a savor finer than drinking and revelry. For a thousand years and more, people have lived in a drowsy, drunken dream; then one day they suddenly awaken and can cut firewood and gather herbs, supporting themselves by their own labor.

Precious Daoist tulu—documents of the Dao (the Way) that record prophetic mandates, ritual arts, and the transmission of Daoist methods—are profound and subtle. So long as one cultivates them with diligent care and upholds them on one’s person, one will not have failed their teaching. Blessings and numinous light appear in full clarity, and the heart shines like a flower that never fades.

With fierce and mighty strength one grasps the sword of wisdom and cuts away the Three Corpses (sanshi, the spirits said in Daoism to dwell in the human body and obstruct cultivation) and the Six Thieves (liuzei, in Buddhist and Daoist usage the six desires or senses that disturb body and mind), so that arrogant, deviant thoughts subside. One lets the Embryo Immortal (taixian, the inner immortal realized in cultivation) abide securely for a long time, coming and going freely, traveling back and forth between the Purple Prefecture and the Pure Capital (zifu and qingdu, realms of the immortals).

Another

How lamentable that the people of the world sink into the sea of suffering like surging waters, while the many who are deluded are left to drift with the current. They are bound and imprisoned by a limited body and by desire without end.

In vain they give rise to countless schemes; and a human life is no more than a hundred years—this brief span will not remain for long. Craving reputation and sunk deep in profit, how could they foresee that the road of life stretches long and far?

The years press people onward like flowing water; one ought to awaken early and seek a way to get free. Before the Peak of Taiyi (the Great One) and beneath the trees of the Twin Grove (shuanglin, a secluded place for cultivating the Dao or for quiet sitting), one should gather in the mind while there is still time.

Since one has long known oneself to be in the wrong, one ought to lay down attachments again and again—and once they are laid down, let that be enough. After one lets go, movement is free and unobstructed, like a little boat tied by no mooring line.

Five Lyrics to the Tune “Dongxian ge” (Song of the Grotto Immortal)

Setting Forth What Is in the Heart

The gateway of the Daoist path is stillness and plain detachment, purity and emptiness. Glory and display, and boastful self-satisfaction, need not be taken to heart.

In the afternoon, at the window, one turns the pages of the Daode jing (the Classic of the Dao and De, Virtue/Power) and the Nanhua zhenjing (the True Scripture of Southern Florescence—the Zhuangzi); beyond this, in hours of leisure, one plays a piece on a silk-stringed instrument.

The colors of autumn have not yet grown old, and trees like brocade encircle mountains that stand like a screen. To give ease to one’s nature, one leans on a bamboo staff and climbs as one pleases to gaze into the distance.

Facing the boundless sea, one sees only the water bright as crystal glaze, joining the sky in a single color; why must one insist on probing to the end the profound and subtle principles?

When in time cultivation is complete and the body is transformed into a flying immortal, one will pass through mist and surging clouds and go straight to the immortal isle of Penglai.

Addressed to Disciples

The daily work of cultivation I set solemnly before you once more. Cultivation is, at root, a matter of leaving the ordinary affairs of the household and taking full care of one’s own xingming (nature and life—in Daoist cultivation, the nurturing of body and mind and the pursuit of longevity).

With a devout heart, set a firm resolve to practice with diligence, draw in your sharp edges and overcome a harsh, unyielding temper, and do not take favor or disgrace to heart; then Shen (spirit) will naturally be clear and Qi (vital energy) settled.

Amid tangled circumstances, the mind-monkey (a figure for restless, unsettled thoughts) runs straight toward Peng Island (the legendary realm of the immortals).

Instructions to Disciples

The daily lessons of cultivation I raise with you again today and make plain. Cultivation is, from the start, for setting aside the burdens of family, safeguarding nature and life, and cultivating body and mind.

With a devout heart, set a firm resolve to practice with diligence, draw in your sharp edges and overcome a harsh, unyielding temper, and do not take favor or disgrace to heart; then Shen will naturally be clear and Qi settled.

Amid tangled circumstances, hold in check the mind-monkey and the will-horse (a figure for restless, scattered thoughts), and do not let them run about at random; at the slightest deviation, correct it at once.

Cultivating to attainment in quiet leisure, one condenses a single Golden Elixir (the emblem of Daoist Neidan, internal alchemy). The work of cultivation gradually becomes complete, and ten thousand shafts of rose-colored light shine upon one another.

The Azure Dragon and the White Tiger (symbolic terms commonly used in the art of Neidan) together assist the cultivator, and the Three Realms and Ten Directions (the worlds of every quarter, as Daoism speaks of them) all come to celebrate.

The Ninth Day

The autumn wind rises high, the dew is clear and cold, and the season of the Double Ninth comes round again. After rain, the mountains appear especially bright, pure, and fair.

Red leaves cover the rocks, and yellow flowers open along the path. The scene is like brocade, and a clear fragrance still drifts gently on the air.

With Shen gathered, one gazes into the distance for a long while, and one’s thoughts enter “wu he you” (the empty realm of which Daoists speak). Turning back, one hears the stream flowing on and on beside the bank.

One reflects that human life is like a dream and that worldly affairs have no end; to sink into them in vain and rush about in toil—how can that compare with brushing one’s sleeves and departing, returning to clarity, stillness, and ease?

Leaning on a great rock, seated in a space barely wide enough for the knees, one forgets the scheming mind and sits at peace in stillness. Watching cloud-shadows drift at the edge of the sky, that realm of wu he you seems to lie right before the eyes.

Turning back, one hears the stream flowing on and on beside the bank. One reflects that human life is like a dream and that worldly affairs have no end; to sink into them in vain and rush about in toil—how can that compare with brushing one’s sleeves and departing, returning to clarity, stillness, and ease?

Leaning on a great rock, seated in a space barely wide enough for the knees, one forgets the scheming mind and sits at peace in stillness. One sees only broken clouds drifting at the sky’s edge, returning now to the mountain peaks.

Another

The clear sky is limpid and bright, and autumn too draws near its close. One’s aspirations esteem clarity, stillness, and emptiness, and one lodges among mountain crags and secluded valleys.

One watches the wild geese in the clouds form their ranks, passing one after another and then gradually scattering, winding on in a long stretch, cry after cry, flying south.

Accompanied by a true friend who has forgotten worldly feelings and thoughts, one discourses together on the mysterious principles, far surpassing the scramble for fame and praise in the ordinary world.

When the mood arises, one waves the sleeves and dances; when drowsy, one sleeps in one’s clothes. Everything is set down—why mind that the sun has already sunk in the west?

In a moment, on the pillow one dreams of roaming the realm of immortals; waking, one is back again deep within the brocade screen.

After the Jiao at Youxian Abbey of the Dahu Tribe Was Completed, the Assembly Requested

The scenery about Youxian Abbey is elegant and fair; stream valleys and plains join one another from high to low. It has its back to a high ridge and faces a long-flowing stream.

One sees the peaks arrayed in ranks, as though a thousand blades towered aloft. The place lies in the Three Yang (a Daoist term for a direction or season associated with Yang Qi), auspicious Qi gathers there, the neighboring households stand continuous with one another, and the local ways are plain, honest, and sincere.

Men and women, old and young, all revere the Great Dao (the Way). The village has its back against a high ridge and faces a long, flowing stream.

Peaks rise in layered ranks, like sheer cliffs a thousand ren high. This place occupies the land of the Three Yangs, where auspicious Qi (vital energy) gathers. The inhabitants live side by side, and local customs are simple, honest, and sincere.

Men and women, old and young, have long believed in the Dao and honored the True. Together, with hearts full of grief and earnestness, they offer sacrifices to commend the dead. “Withered and decayed” here refers to those who have already passed away.

They reverently present memorials, praying that the sages of successive ages and the exalted perfected ones (the divine perfected beings venerated in Daoism) will broadly bestow grace, send down talismanic mandates, proclaim favor, and pardon offenses.

May the souls of the dead in the bitter realm of the underworld, and the ghosts and spirits who suffer, all be freed from anguish; and may every household among the living remain at peace and share in blessings.

Zhaojun Yuan

Presented to the female devotee Xiao Jingshan and others

I earnestly advise the immortal company who cultivate the True: daily practice depends entirely on concrete action. The sun and moon course as swiftly as a weaver’s shuttle; do not let the time pass in vain.

When you meet with sights and things of the outer world, do not let your thoughts be stirred along with them. Whether sitting, pausing, or walking, remain settled and still. This is the work of cultivation, which in the end accords with the Dao of emptiness.