《敲爻歌》

I am a “Lotus Guest” (a reclusive cultivator) who came from the end of the Han into the Tang and drifted through the human world, so the principles set forth in this Qiao Yao Ge (Song of Striking the Lines) cannot be guessed at in any ordinary way. Cultivation has its vertical and its horizontal, its going against and its going with; one must not cling to fixed rules. In stillness it is Wuwei (non-action); in movement it appears as form and color.

Sometimes I drink wine and eat meat, yet I can hold to my resolve, neither sinking into pleasure quarters nor indulging sexual desire. Sometimes I sing and chant, writing lyrics of love between men and women; sometimes I keep the precepts, while on ordinary days I drink wine and eat meat just the same.

Here, what is called “sensual form” is the medicine, and “wine” is blessing and prosperity. If, amid wine and sensual form, one can remain unbound, cultivation is not hindered. But if one merely clings to flowers and wine and thereby misses longevity, lost in drinking and dallying with courtesans, spirits and ghosts will weep for it.

One should not break the precepts, nor commit sexual excess. Breaking the precepts causes true nature to sink; sexual excess damages the treasure of longevity. Whoever can grasp the principle in this must have the power to cultivate the Dao (the Way).

One who has the power to cultivate the Dao is an easy, unbridled “idle wanderer” (a person of leisure unbound by the secular world). Wine is a good friend; flowers are companions. They come and go through the flowered streets and willow lanes seeking the True Person (Zhenren, one who has attained the Dao), and the True Person at times roams freely right there among the flowered streets.

Pluck a flower and wear it; drink the wine of longevity. Holding the Dao of Wuwei amid such a scene, the Dao will flourish. Let the crowd be bewildered and laugh at my oddity: wherever immortal flowers and immortal wine are found, there is the homeland of the immortals.

Reaching this realm, one is no ordinary visitor. The Lovely Maiden and the Infant (Chanü and Ying’er, terms in Neidan, internal alchemy, for the Jing, essence, and Qi, vital energy, of Yin-Yang) give rise to joy from this. In the grotto residence there are always flowers of the four seasons, and every flower can form the medicine of longevity.

The medicine of longevity must be gathered from the “heart of the flower”; the stamens open layer upon layer, as if spring were in full vigor. People of the world do not understand the principle contained in the flower; this one secret of Heaven’s workings is worth ten thousand in gold.

Grateful to Heaven and Earth, and mindful of the Void, one may withdraw to cultivate immortality. The “Immortal Lad” (a cultivator) often sees the flowers of the four seasons, and every flower can form the medicine of longevity.

The medicine of longevity must be gathered from the “heart of the flower”; the stamens open layer upon layer, as if spring were in full vigor. People of the world do not understand the principle contained in the flower; this one secret of Heaven’s workings is worth ten thousand in gold.

Grateful to Heaven and Earth, and mindful of the Void, one may withdraw to cultivate immortality; this Immortal Lad is precisely the ancestral master. In a low voice he transmits the profound and mysterious intent, leading one up to the first peak of Penglai.

The first peak belongs to the house of the immortals; only in a moment of hazy indistinctness does the “golden sprout” arise (the image, in Neidan cultivation, of Jing and Qi congealing). These secrets are passed from mouth to ear and are not written in books; the cultivator must have a solid “numinous root and marrow” (the foundation of cultivating the Dao, and the basis of body and mind).

To make the marrow firm and the numinous root trained is like petals of peach blossom showing the air of spring within the grotto-heaven. “Seven-sevens of the White Tiger,” “nurturing in pairs,” and “eight-eights of the Azure Dragon” are all esoteric phrases of Neidan cultivation. They speak of the nurturing and matching of the Jing and Qi of Yin-Yang, finally joining as one jin.

The True Father and Mother (a Neidan term likening the root sources of Yin-Yang) send original Qi back to the “Primal Palace” (the place where original Qi is stored); the Wood Mother and the Metal Duke (symbolizing respectively the Yin and Yang Qi in Neidan cultivation) are mild by nature. Within the twelve palaces the toad-po appears (the moonlike yin Jing is manifested); the earthly po descends from time to time, and the heavenly hun follows.

After lead, a symbolic medicine in Neidan (internal alchemy), has been refined, mercury, the other symbolic medicine set over against lead, only then begins to arise. The jade furnace and the golden cauldron have not yet undergone cooking and refining. One man and one woman are joined together, symbolizing the intercourse of Heaven and Earth and the union of Qian and Kun.

Geng Metal is to come forth, and Jia Wood is to come forth as well. When the two Qi (vital energy) of Jia and Geng begin to be generated, the Dao (the Way) stirs and sprouts from this. Take and obtain the root of Heaven and the quintessence of Earth, and White Snow and Yellow Sprout, symbolic elixir medicines in Neidan, will grow of themselves.

Lead comes forth, and mercury comes forth as well. The power that enables lead to endure must be cooked and refined together with the lead. The cooking and refining spoken of here is not the refining of saliva and fluids, but the use of the essences of Heaven and Earth, of Qian and Kun, and of the sun and moon.

The Yellow Dame, a symbol in Neidan for harmonizing Yin-Yang, brings the two into accord until at last they are reunited. The timing in this admits not the slightest error and must be transmitted by word of mouth. The transformations of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) and the Three Origins all depend on mercury, and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) and the Four Images cannot be separated from lead.

Aluminum gives birth to mercury, and mercury in turn gives birth to lead. Master this process, and one can seize the pivot of the creative transformation of Heaven and Earth. The essences of Heaven and Earth, of Qian and Kun, and of the sun and moon are profound and hard to fathom. In the dark unseen they seem to come into being; in a fleeting vagueness they congeal into a mass.

In cultivation the mind-nature must be empty and luminous, and intention must be single and undivided. Do not let the mind’s Shen (spirit) clamber about at will like a monkey. When the elixir sprout first opens, it must especially not be disturbed. Seal it within the earthen cauldron, a vessel symbolizing the elixir furnace, and do not open the gate of the furnace.

In the jade furnace, refine and nourish it with civil fire, a gentle and sustained phase of firing. Through all twelve double-hours, hold fast to single-mindedness. At this time Yin and Yang meet upon the Yellow Path, the symbolic course along which Yin and Yang join. Jing (essence), Qi, and Shen return to the original source and are not allowed to leak away.

When the mechanism of Qi is in motion, the true fire begins to burn and refine. Do not let the primal pearl, which symbolizes the core of Neidan, leave the precious hall. In adjusting the firing and in increasing or decreasing the medicines, be cautious and guard against danger. At the stage of “Initial Nine, the hidden dragon,” the power has not yet shown itself, and one must not rashly undertake the refining.

Regulate the firing, and the medicines change, as though yellow sprouts were growing all across the earth. Within the cycle of the Five Phases, the Qi of one Yang begins to sprout. The twenty-four solar terms likewise fall into order, regular as pearls and jade.

When the firing is sufficient, the elixir medicine is refined to completion, and sounds arise like a dragon’s chant and a tiger’s roar. Yet of three portions of lead, only one can be refined into true lead. The golden fruit and the immortal sprout, images of elixir medicine symbolizing the fruits of cultivation, have not yet appeared and taken form.

Note: In the original text, the wording “aluminum gives birth to mercury” and the later point “when the measure of the fire is full” are repetitive and broken. The above follows the surviving text in sequential translation.

Set the elixir furnace in place once more and raise the cauldron anew; cultivate as the tiger and the dragon unite, and leave the mundane realm behind. No sooner has the Jing (essence) within the sun appeared than the radiance of the moon condenses; the two Qi (vital energy) of Yin and Yang meet at the times of Ren and Bing.

Dragon mercury—the mercurial Qi that symbolizes Yang within Yin—congeals, and tiger lead—the leaden Qi that symbolizes Yin within Yang—is refined; the immortal realm of Penglai seems close at hand. Kun lead and Qian mercury are the foundation of refining the Golden Elixir (Jindan), and the working of dragon lead and tiger mercury is the most numinous of all.

Only when this principle is understood can cultivation of the Dao (the Way) be counted a success. Thirty thousand Divine Farmers guard and uphold Jing as clear as crystal. One carefully awaits the hour, fixes the day, and discerns the signs, phases, and degree-marks; in practice one holds to a single intent, with reverence in the heart.

After black lead has been refined, one gathers and obtains clear, pure true Qi; Yin and Yang clash for a time, then return to stillness. With the three carts one transports the precious Jing, sending it back into the treasure store so that it naturally becomes numinous and responsive.

Heavenly spirits grant their protection and earthly deities come forth to receive; Yin and Yang unite, gathering the essential radiance of Qian and Kun, of sun and moon. At a single roar of the tiger, the dragon emerges from its cave; the luan soars and the phoenix dances, as though flying out from the golden city.

The mineral cinnabar is matched with quicksilver; the quicksilver settles, and a sheet of red aurora spreads across the realm of Taiqing (Great Clarity). As the Jing in the lead pool passes in and out, golden light appears; the fire of mercury becomes a flowing luminous pearl and enters the imperial capital.

After the dragon and the tiger have joined, one maintains fullness on the outside; the sacred Shen (spirit) revolves within the precious vase. Within a single double-hour the Golden Elixir is achieved; one attends court at the Golden Portal, and purple clouds rise.

When the peaches of immortality ripen, one gathers and ingests them; the myriad beings come to pay homage, and heaven and earth rejoice. One keeps a fast in purity.

As the Jing in the lead pool passes in and out, golden light appears; the fire of mercury becomes a flowing luminous pearl and enters the imperial capital. After the dragon and the tiger have joined, one maintains fullness on the outside; the sacred Shen revolves within the precious vase. Within a single double-hour the Golden Elixir is achieved; one attends court at the Golden Portal, and purple clouds rise.

When the peaches of immortality ripen, one gathers and ingests them; the myriad beings come to pay homage, and heaven and earth rejoice. Keeping the fast, one quietly awaits the “birth of the first Yang”—the moment when Yang Qi first arises—and then, following the principles set forth in the Zhouyi Cantong Qi (The Seal of the Unity of the Three), circulates the celestial circuit, sending the breath along the channels and vessels of the body.

In accordance with the principles of the Zhouyi Cantong Qi, one refines the Golden Elixir, letting the Qi of water and fire steam through and penetrate every pass and aperture of the body. One warms and nurtures it as one would tend a fetus for ten months, until the divine elixir congeals. That an embryo should form within a man’s body—how could this be an ordinary matter?

When Neidan (internal alchemy) is accomplished, Waidan (external alchemy) has likewise been refined; the inner and outer elixirs join one another and answer in harmony. They condense into a single mass of purple-gold radiance, transform and soar aloft, and endure forever between heaven and earth.

Once the Golden Elixir enters the abdomen, it is no ordinary matter; the form and substance of Yin gradually waste away and change into a body of pure Yang. The cultivator ascends in flight and undergoes immortal transformation, becoming an immortal guest in the realm of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing); the work is fulfilled, and one reaches straight to the heavens above.

The immortal guests of the realm of the Three Pure Ones ride carriages of fine jade, mount cranes and rise into the air, and enter the Great Void. In such freedom their joy is beyond compare as they roam the Three Realms amid marvelous sights.

Those who truly cultivate the Dao (the Way) practice above the Great Void (Taixu—the realm of emptiness, formless and without image). In the end they become bright and perfectly complete, and the mind no longer clings to any concrete thing. The myriad things are all empty, and only the Dao appears; thereupon, in the five directions (east, west, south, north, and the center), the forms of the Zhenren (Perfected) are revealed.

Immortal youths and immortal maidens come riding colored clouds to welcome the cultivator. Arriving at the Palace of Five Brilliances (Wuming Gong—a palace in the Daoist immortal realm), the cultivator remains bright and perfectly complete, the mind attached to nothing. The myriad things are all empty, and only the Dao appears; in the five directions the forms of the Zhenren are revealed.

Immortal youths and immortal maidens come on colored clouds to offer welcome, and within the Palace of Five Brilliances the cultivator transmits the True Declarations (Zhengao—the true words and cultivation formulas of the Daoist tradition). These True Declarations can dissolve feelings and intentions that lie hidden and are hard to discern. The key lies in refining and nurturing true lead and true mercury—metaphors in Neidan (internal alchemy) for the Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), and for the intent of Shen (spirit), which must be harmonized in cultivation.

The states cultivated by śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas (Buddhist practitioners who seek personal liberation) seem as if ice and snow were melting away. Heterodox practitioners and asuras (those regarded as cultivators who have strayed from the true Way, and as contentious classes of divine beings) likewise shrink back in fear. Withered bones, touched but once, are at once transformed into bodily form. One must trust that the heavenly ladder leading to the Great Dao remains level and passable throughout.

The ancestral spirits of nine generations (the dead of successive generations among one’s forebears) can all be liberated thereby. Why envy the wealth, rank, and splendor of the human world? One should seek persons of firm resolve and worthy ability, and together set in place the furnace and cauldron (symbols of Neidan cultivation), so as to refine and transform the ordinary body.

If one is stingy with talent and learning and keeps treasures hidden away, then even ten million immortals will be unwilling to come. Those who cultivate the Dao must not speak rashly; a single reckless word brings grave loss.

One who remains sunk through myriad kalpas cannot attain the Dao, and may even bleed from the seven orifices. Pinguanzi (here apparently a self-designation or a form of address, whose exact referent is hard to determine) makes a resolute vow to transmit in full, and to draw forth as a guide for others, the profound and untrammeled wondrous methods of the Daoist tradition.

He wishes to join everyone in the immortal assembly of Penglai. The scorching torment of worldly afflictions will at last come to an end. Human life is brief, and one should reflect all the more carefully: within the grotto-heavens (Dongtian), heaven and earth are vast, and sun and moon endure long.

With a steadfast will and two or three years of arduous cultivation, one may enjoy boundless longevity across hundreds of thousands of myriads of kalpas. Having penetrated the sacred Dao and beheld the principle that is real and constant, one cannot be harmed by tigers and leopards, nor by blades and weapons; nor can water and fire, or flood-dragons, inflict injury. Then one may clap one’s hands and laugh with joy in the palaces of heaven.

These methods are truly marvelous, and they may be transmitted to others—yet who is willing to receive them? Foolish people are sunk in sensual pleasures and material wealth, and so the immortals are unwilling to summon and guide them.

The true supreme Dao does not pick and choose among people, nor does it ask whether one’s station is high or low, or one’s household rich or poor. Even a son of the emperor, or a noble descendant of kings, must cast off empty show and draw in his sharp edge. If anger is not removed and foolish clinging is not changed, one falls into the bitter sea of birth and death within the round of transmigration.

Gold, silver, pearls, and jade may heap up across mountains and rivers, yet when immortals see them they only chant and smile, and do not prize them. Reputation cannot count as true honor; only the great Dao (the Way) is most to be revered. Sages of successive ages have all made their fair names known, and have also left blessings for their descendants.

With jade ornaments at the waist and astride a swift horse, one appears, in the turn of an eye, no more than a grain of dust in the crack of a door. Dust in a door-crack, and sparks flung when stones strike together, are all brief and soon gone. Why exhaust one’s mind in the pursuit of lasting wealth and rank?

Even bitter suffering cannot call back the passage of time. The scramble for fame and profit clamors like water boiling in a cauldron; people who sink into it are like mercury settling into the depths, departing from the Dao and losing their true nature—and this is precisely the root of misfortune.

If someone can clear the turmoil from the heart, I will tell you the key to cultivating the Dao: the way of life must be transmitted by a teacher, while the way of mind and nature must be realized for oneself; whether one can enter sagehood and rise beyond the ordinary depends, in the end, on one’s own practice.

On the road to the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), the highest celestial realm venerated in Daoism, few people walk; yet among the six paths—the six destinations of beings in the cycle of rebirth—people contend to enter. The worthy are admonished not to cling to the worldly; the essentials of cultivating nature and life must be safeguarded.

If any one aspect of cultivation is lacking, completion is hard to reach; if one clings to partial or deviant teachings, one will take the wrong path. Cultivating only mind and nature, and not the root of life, is the first fault to be corrected in practice.

To cultivate only one’s innate nature and not practice Neidan (internal alchemy) is hardly to become a sage even through ten thousand ages. To understand the way of nature and life and yet lose one’s original nature is like looking into a mirror when there is no mirror—one cannot see the features of one’s own face.

A lifespan as long as heaven and earth still leaves one a foolish person; even if one holds the wealth of the household, one has no true authority to be master. Only when both nature and life are cultivated can one reach the subtle and mysterious realm; turning spiritual power in the depths of the Dantian (energy center) is like steering a boat of the teaching over the waves.

When one subdues the flood-dragon—in Neidan practice, a common image for taming the restless, unruly forces within the body—and personally grasps the essentials of cultivation, only then does one know that the art transmitted by those who came before is no empty talk.