《重陽全真集》Vol. 10
About this page. The original text of 《重陽全真集》 Vol. 10 (Taiping 太平部, 13 volumes) is shown in Classical Chinese as transmitted in the Kanripo (Kyoto University) edition. An English interpretation of the 12 passages on this page accompanies it: select a passage or press “Interpretation” to show it. All texts in English
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Source textInterpretation
Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi) expounds the essence of cultivation in this series of poems. He tells Wang Jun: This madman (referring to himself as "Haifeng") has specially visited your noble household (huazong), for the truths of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism are fundamentally interconnected. In practice, one must understand the initial emergence of yang qi at winter solstice (the "azure and white" representing yin-yang energies) and the sprouting of all things during spring equinox ("green and red" symbolizing vitality). By comprehending the movements of the three luminaries (sun, moon, stars), one can see through the illusory nature of the physical body composed of earth, water, fire, and wind. Our original nature is inherently complete and luminous, merely obscured by external attachments—once awakened, it becomes transparent like clear water undisturbed by floating blossoms. Shattering all fixations to return to the wondrous mystery, every practitioner can realize their true nature. Even daily activities like eating contain hidden profundity, and sitting face-to-face becomes as translucent as flawless jade.
He admonishes fellow cultivators: Understand that abiding with the Dao is the only enduring path, and grasping its mysteries forms an eternal bond. When contemplating truth, never neglect the classics of the three teachings. Quanzhen practice requires harmonizing with the seasonal energies. Nourish primordial qi until it overflows, consolidate the original spirit (yuanshen) without leakage. Cultivating nineteen perfect wisdoms ("circular radiance") enables one to invite fellow seekers to witness celestial truth.
Reflecting on snow, he realizes: True delight lies beyond deliberate pursuit—no worldly thing can disturb the original mind. The azure sky's clarity isn't contrived, white clouds wander without intention. Moonlight enhances elegance, gentle breezes carry divine melodies. He cares not for Pan Yue's ornate verses nor Bo Ya's artificial zither music. External flowers don't stir the spirit, while internally nurturing the spiritual seedling (neidan) requires solitary dedication. One must refine the essence of the three dantian, allowing true nature to ascend the summit. Forging a crystalline dharma body, the immortal embryo (neidan achievement) resonates like phoenixes in harmony. Dwelling eternally in stillness with the Dao, preserving forever the "gold within water" (kidney's true yang).
On excessive dreaming: Subdue the restless mind and stabilize the spirit—dreams will cease naturally. When the coccyx (Dumai's base) remains unmoved, essence (jing) is preserved; the kidney sea (lower dantian) constantly replenishes true yang (mercury symbolizing primordial essence). Inner cultivation enhances awareness, outer practice strengthens the body. Widely spreading the Dharma to deliver beings is the mark of one who roams free beyond shores.
Answering Yu Gong's inquiry: True practice means no thought no deliberation—nourishing qi, perfecting spirit, releasing all ties. Seek the primordial face unchanged since antiquity, reclaim the original nature's radiance. Don't cling to external visions, but seek the elixir within the mind-heart. Thus one naturally transcends the sea of suffering, riding the great divine vessel of purity.
Instruction for lay practitioners: Cultivation isn't about formalities but awakening the mind-nature. The three teachings' truths share one source—internally nourish primordial qi while outwardly accumulating virtue. Thus one naturally realizes the great Dao.
Cultivation must rely on the physical body, yet one should not cling to this mundane form. The human body is a temporary aggregation of the four elements—earth, water, fire, and wind—and will ultimately decay. What truly requires refinement is the authentic spirit of one's innate nature. When one cultivates to the state of formlessness and flawlessness, the Golden Elixir (Jindan, the highest achievement of Daoist Neidan practice) will coalesce. At this stage, five radiant lights accompany the body, enabling transcendence from the mundane world and ascension to the pure divine vessel.
Brother Wang's poem states:
In the study of the Dao and cultivation, there is no need to formally seek a master—the key lies in awakening within one's own heart. Wisdom naturally arises in stillness, and compassion often dwells in solitude. Daily tasks like carrying firewood and drawing water are all part of practice, while seated meditation and contemplation each follow their own path. Restraint in diet and relinquishing attachments are acts of generosity, and finding joy in accordance with circumstances is also cultivation. Healing the sick and saving lives yield the greatest merit, and abstaining from alcohol while maintaining a vegetarian diet is most fitting. When the time is ripe, one will naturally perceive the true nature, and past-life karmic connections will manifest.
On the essentials of internal cultivation:
The most crucial aspect of practice is maintaining inner purity. When the eyes do not chase after external objects, the "dragon" (Yuanshen, the original spirit) within naturally stabilizes; when the nose does not seek fragrances or odors, the "tiger" (Yuanjing, the original essence) endures. If the tongue remains indifferent to flavors, the heart-mind (Shen) is joyful; if the ears do not listen to distractions, the kidney-water remains clear. When the Yin and Yang energies within harmonize, and the forces of the east and west (referring to internal directions) converge, the Three Corpses (Sanshi, the three malevolent spirits believed to reside in the body) are eradicated. The Wood nature (liver) and Metal nature (lungs) balance each other, and the "infant" (original spirit) and "maiden" (original essence) naturally accompany one another. Ultimately, the Golden Elixir emerges from the crown of the head, radiating five-colored light that soars into the heavens.
On drinking and gambling:
A life of idle pleasure and indulgence may seem joyful, but when drinking, remember filial piety to one's parents; when gambling, do not destroy the family. Those who enter the Dao must constantly strive with diligence, and in observing worldly laws, they must be even more cautious. If one can act with an impartial mind and skillful means, they may also walk the path of cultivation alongside me.
Poem on Encouraging Study:
Sleeping during the day like Zai Yu is unacceptable—cherish time and study diligently. Be as hardworking as Kuang Heng, who chiseled through a wall to borrow light, or Sun Jing, who tied his hair to a beam to stay awake. Though one may live in poverty, the heart remains joyful. With great aspirations, one need not fixate on a single skill—instead, emulate Lord Sun in broad learning.
On Awakening:
The innate spiritual nature within each person is originally pure and luminous. Simply releasing this true light extinguishes all delusions. The Three Treasures—Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit)—will inevitably achieve true enlightenment, and the authentic spirit will naturally attain perfection. To attain miraculous spiritual abilities, one must purify the mind; to comprehend the profound, clarity is key. Only then can one become a transcendent cultivator, advancing steadily on the path of longevity.
Poem of Self-Reflection:
Like a crimson agate suspended in a quiet chamber, the serene and wondrous realm lies before my eyes.
Selected Passages from Chongyang's Complete Perfection Collection Interpreted in Plain Language:
Regarding cultivation methods, it emphasizes guarding the vital essence (Jing) within the body as if protecting a treasure ("securing the chamber of jade, anchoring amber in the fields" refers to key areas in Neidan practice). Preserve the four precious energies carefully and refine them under the illumination of the sun, moon, and stars (the Three Lights). When the correct method is mastered, one transcends the mundane world, walking amidst the rainbow-hued realms of immortals (golden lotuses symbolize the footsteps of Daoist transcendents).
On the topic of life and death: understand contentment and avoid drowning in worldly desires (the "pit of fire" represents the illusions of mortal life). Through cultivation, one's true nature emerges, leading to breakthroughs during the pivotal hours of Zi (midnight) and Wu (noon). When primordial Qi manifests, all seven orifices of the body brim with auspicious energy. With compassion, one surpasses worldly bonds, attaining longevity on the path of purity.
Reflections on a friend's gift of wine: the path of practice is not self-willed, yet amid clouds and mist, one's nature awakens. Clear winds and bright moons are constant companions; green mountains and flowing waters accompany the journey. When drinking, remain lucid—let the light of wisdom illuminate the body, which is like a wine vessel.
On pursuing purity: just as the moon shines brighter when clouds disperse, worldly attachments must dissolve. Without stirring vexations, one grasps the true meaning; distancing from disputes frees one from predicaments. When mountain breezes arrive, the "light snow" (symbolizing a serene mind) naturally appears. Those who face the wall in meditation understand this state—on the carefree path, fulfillment is achieved.
Wealth and glory are not fundamental; transcend worldly perspectives. By refining the eight consciousnesses (a Buddhist concept of deep awareness) and the five gates (possibly the senses or the Five Phases), one surpasses the Three Realms and Six Paths. Ultimately, the golden lotus of perfection blooms—never to be lost again.
In a poem for a friend: the great Dao (Way) cannot be conveyed in words; Chan (Zen) and Daoism share the same essence. The key to seated meditation lies in realization—a single incense stick's time suffices to comprehend. Absorb the essence of the Three Lights (sun, moon, stars), transcend bodily limits, and wander freely like white clouds.
Answering a friend's question: the Dao of nature lies in serene Wuwei (non-action)—no need to obsess over the Golden Elixir or immortals. Nourish Qi fully, and the spirit grows purer; even ten thousand gold coins cannot buy deep sleep. When the three Dantian (energy centers) become unobstructed ("three peaks"), it is like a white lotus blooming with five petals (symbolizing harmonized organs). See beyond superficial techniques to grasp the profound mysteries.
A poem on the eyes: eyes should be crystal-clear, piercing through superficial illusions. Do not fixate on fleeting beauty but study texts like the Yellow Court Scripture (divided into inner and outer landscapes). When the gaze remains upright, one perceives the true essence.
The Daoist novice (a young practitioner in training) sits upright in stillness, turning the gaze inward beyond outward forms. When encountering the golden tweezers (symbolizing the moment of enlightenment), one scrapes away the dust obscuring the eyes, allowing the eye of wisdom to shine naturally. This is the process of self-realization.
Teeth fall out, hair turns gray—this aging body, though the dwelling of spirit, remains bound by foolish attachments. Chasing fame, profit, and status in the mundane world, one neglects the pure emptiness (the state of Wuwei) of mountain solitude and the lofty companionship of the moon. One must thoroughly cleanse the turbid waters of the mind, gathering the Qi of true fire; parting the smoke-like veils of delusion, one points directly to the mirror-clear essence of the heart. From then on, one may expand into realms like crimson clouds, shattering the constraints of impure Yin (worldly distractions).
Ode to the Sword:
This sword (symbolizing wisdom) is sharpest and clearest,
Its edge only grows keener with honing.
Raised high, it splits open new eyes of awakening,
With a single stroke, it severs past delusions.
By day, crystalline and unstained by dust,
By night, radiant with a pure resonance.
It repels demons and dispels malign Qi,
In the end, dissolving all illusions into nothingness.
On Zhongzheng’s Dwelling:
Today, on the Clear and Bright Festival, I admire the waterside hall—
This home is tranquil in every corner.
Children and grandchildren fill the house with joy,
Virtue (De) fragrant as the lotus.
Zhongzheng (a person’s name) understands yielding and selflessness,
More meaningful than rigidly studying scriptures.
When the time comes, we’ll retreat beyond the green mountains,
Watching endless clouds unfold like painted screens.
Dream of the Eight Immortals:
Last night, I dreamed of the Eight Immortals,
Who bestowed upon me a robe woven from phoenix feathers and a jade tablet.
Several exquisite scrolls unfurled like brocade,
An ivory brush moved like drifting clouds.
Spreading the teachings to awaken minds,
Skillful poetry sows fields of merit.
Who can fathom these profound celestial secrets?
Only this "Madman of the Way" (Wang Chongyang’s self-reference) can transmit them.
Hearing the Oriole’s Song:
Today, the twenty-eighth day of the third month,
Suddenly, I heard the oriole’s call.
Awakened, I observed with the eye of Dao—
Its newly grown golden feathers shimmered.
Seeing me turn, it sang a clear refrain,
As if understanding my heart.
This song, like a freshly tuned zither,
Makes even the indifferent wind and moon my kindred spirits.
Early Spring:
Breaking free from worldly snares, unstained by dust,
The famed garden’s beauty rivals a grotto-heaven.
Tell me, do you recognize the carefree wanderer?
See if I can be a man at ease.
Poems flow freely at the banquet,
Fine wine pours endlessly in drunken delight.
The rare flowers of the seasons never fade—
Only their pure fragrance remains unchanged.
Leaping beyond the cage of mundanity, untouched by dust,
Today, I finally perceive the spring beyond material things.
Facing such beauty, I no longer chase after power,
Having transformed myself into a man of leisure.
Poetic inspiration arrives swiftly with the brush,
Fine wine swirls in jade cups without end.
Recognize the true teachings of the patriarchs—
Like the sprouting Yellow Sprout (a Neidan term for primordial Qi),
It nourishes the garden’s boundless vitality.
Inscribed at a Friend’s Pavilion:
For now, I leave these verses at my friend’s tower.
Wang Chongyang expresses in these poems the carefree nature of the monastic life along with admonitions and blessings for relatives and friends.
The first poem depicts children leisurely herding cattle, metaphorically suggesting that Daoist cultivators should maintain childlike purity and desirelessness. By distancing oneself from worldly toils, one draws closer to the incense fires of immortal cultivation (referring to spiritual practice). Though Penglai (the fairyland) lies just within reach, none recognize it—yet the poet has already attained the carefree joy of the Purple Mansion (abode of immortals). Only by resolutely abandoning the river of worldly attachments can one cultivate in purity, sailing a light boat to tour all ten immortal isles.
The second snow poem portrays a blizzard scene: dark clouds blanket the sky while white sands swirl, obscuring vision. Auspicious snow piles a foot deep, with six-petaled flakes crystallizing into propitious patterns. This spectacle makes fishermen reel in their lines, leaving the transcendent to enjoy this pristine solitude. When the bright moon pierces the evening mist, its silver radiance illuminating snowy rosy clouds, the scene becomes even more ethereal.
The third poem offers nephewly advice, earnestly instructing "Seventh Brother" to remember three principles: obey state laws, uphold moral duty, and strictly maintain military discipline. In human relations, practice courtesy and humility—putting others first is the path of enduring wisdom. The poet anticipates his nephew's triumphant return after achieving merit.
The fourth celebrates a brother's longevity. Auspicious clouds and numinous qi envelop this virtuous elder brother, whose five-hundredth birthday coincides with the third lunar month (considered auspicious in Daoism). Particularly on the eleventh day—when peaches of immortality ripen once every three millennia—the poet urges his brother not decline golden cups of fine wine but to add more incense to the burner. His blessing: may the brother's lifespan surpass gold-jade, rivers-seas, iron-stone, and pine-cypress—for all these eventually decay, while his years extend boundlessly.
The fifth reveals Qingming solar-term cultivation insights. At Qingming when yang qi peaks, tender greens and faint reds mark the fire-forbidden period (recalling the Cold Food Festival tradition). Steadfast Daoist resolve avoids wine-and-lust delusions; understanding one's innate nature brings longevity. Swallows' murmurs and orioles' songs alike whisper cultivation mysteries. Few comprehend the secrets of the three Dantian (upper/middle/lower elixir fields), while the Four Falsehoods (wine, lust, wealth, and anger in Daoism) must be seen through. Mastering the generative-destructive cycles of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) and applying them inversely in practice ensures future transcendence.
The final poem shares personal cultivation realizations. Leisurely composing poetry reveals the Four Treasures of the Study (brush, ink, paper, inkstone) as spiritual beings: the black-hatted pageboy (ink) adding water to the inkstone, the red-clad maiden (brush) wielding mystic ink, the fair-faced scholar (paper) spreading silver tubes, the green-tressed beauty (inkstone) unfurling brocade sheets. Through ninefold refinement (repeated cultivation), jade-like characters emerge—with one flourish creating pearl-perfect verses. These words shine like bright jewels, glow as colored clouds, embodying the essence of the Five Phases.
This passage contains multiple Daoist cultivation poems, which I will analyze section by section:
The first poem describes a cultivation state: Holding vibrant flowers as offerings to celestial immortals (the "Great Luo Immortals" refer to the highest heavenly beings), the practitioner Wang Zhe (Wang Chongyang referring to himself as "Harmful Wind") wanders freely by distant mountains and seas. Cultivating eight hundred virtuous deeds is like twin trees bearing fruit; when three thousand merits reach completion, it resonates like thunder. No longer bound by emotional desires (the "restless mind and heart-monkey" symbolize mental agitation), nor chasing worldly wealth. If one can sever the temptations of wealth and lust, they permanently avoid the dangers of downfall, ultimately attaining enlightenment where auspicious azure mists appear everywhere, riding the wind to ascend to jade platforms of immortality.
The second and third poems are dedicated to Fellow Daoist Li: Praising his carefree cultivation life, with Daoist methods pure and transcendent. His verses possess the elegance of a banished immortal's hand, his character rivaling Laozi (Lord Lao). His literary talent surpasses Han Yu, his qin skills equal Bo Ya. Asking if he knows immortal Wangzi Qiao, hoping to fly together to Penglai's immortal isles. Then describing practitioners wandering freely with the clouds, enjoying moonlit breezes, like immortals riding cranes, cultivating in Wangchuan-like serenity (referring to Wang Wei's hermitage). Through master's guidance reaching clarity and emptiness, where simple tastes surpass Yi Ya's (ancient master chef) delicacies—why need elixirs when so serenely free?
The fourth poem describes red-eye illness: Exceptionally sharp hearing yet eyes blood-red like blindness, this state resembles monks entering meditation or Daoists beginning practice. One must internally guard the Shen (spirit) from scattering outward, eliminating distractions, reining in the restless heart-monkey (symbolizing scattered thoughts), thereby opening the Jade Pillow acupoint at the crown.
The fifth poem uses a mill donkey analogy: When the weak donkey cannot turn the mill, the driver angrily whips it. This mirrors those ignorant of cultivation's proper measure—forcing progress only increases suffering. Those lacking De (virtue) will face karmic retribution.
The final passage records Wang Chongyang awakening disciple Ma Yu through "monastic confinement": The unnamed monk of Zhiping Temple wrote verses on quiet cultivation—closed doors sever greed and anger; ornate towers and painted horns (worldly glamor) are spring dreams; only when the mind-ocean clears does true nature appear. At genuine awakening, the heart is liberated, its subtleties clear as water. Seeing worldly delusions, he steadfastly guards his meditation hall. Wang Chongyang responded to each line with three verses, forming eight quatrains corresponding to Buddhist eight consciousnesses (visual, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, tactile, mental, etc.).
Wang Chongyang's poem expounds the essential principles of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoist practice. Practitioners should distance themselves from worldly temptations, remaining unstained by mundane dust like a white steed flashing through a crevice, roaming freely as wild horses galloping across plains. Through seated meditation and breath regulation, one eliminates greed, anger, and delusion—ears untouched by worldly clamor while maintaining inner purity in a state of Wuwei (non-action).
The crux of cultivation lies in inward contemplation and maintaining balanced breath, where virtuous causes naturally yield virtuous fruits. Like clear seawater reflecting one's true nature, the tongue abstains from five flavors, preserving purity during the three daily periods (morning, noon, evening) to savor the supreme sweetness of the Dao. When the mind achieves complete awakening, a sphere of radiant light (Neidan/internal alchemy) manifests within the body, entering the profound and unfathomable mystical realm.
The poem critiques worldly obsession with illusions of life and death, revealing that only through "turning the light around" to perceive one's original mind and true nature can one comprehend the profound mystery. Practitioners should stabilize their meditation chamber to eliminate afflictions while simultaneously propagating the Dao's teachings to liberate all beings.
Through dialogues with companions, the latter section clarifies that youth should diligently study profound principles and strive for excellence in scholarly pursuits. It further reveals the key to transcending rebirth lies in recognizing one's fundamental face—relinquishing attachments and desires while preserving true purity, allowing the light of nature to manifest in the jade pond (Dantian/energy center).
Concluding with angling metaphors, cultivation appears as mysteriously as hooking the moon with a golden line, reminding all of time's fleeting nature. The poem emphasizes not clinging to external physical decay, for the inner true nature knows no aging—one must maintain an infant's pristine essence. Throughout the verses flow the core Quanzhen teachings of Neidan alchemy and heart-mind cultivation.
Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi) conveys cultivation principles through these poems in accessible language. The first poem describes a child in white robes with blue headwear as manifesting karmic affinity from past cultivation—though not yet fully comprehending profound truths, the child has already embarked on the path to Penglai, the immortal isle.
When urging fellow practitioners, he emphasizes transcending the cyclical bonds of Yin-Yang, maintaining inner purity as the true path to immortality, with the key lying in nurturing one's essence through serene leisure. The paper banner reads: "Following nature brings effortless ease; when hungry, beg alms on the street, seeking only voluntary offerings from the worldly."
In the poem harmonizing with a fellow cultivator, he depicts: "Having attained the true Dao, years become irrelevant; incense burns before the Daode Jing, sitting peacefully to enter a state of sublime tranquility, smiling alone as divine presence descends." He reminds Liu Siyou to frequently reflect by "gazing into the mirror," lest the luminous pearl be dulled by dust—those with karmic roots should shed worldly attachments and return to original purity.
The dream encounter poem implies that cultivation requires overcoming mundane distractions. Wang observes: "Shallow blessings stem from worldly entanglements; to attain serenity, preserve inner clarity." Only by relinquishing trivial concerns can one discuss the "non-dual" (buer) dharma with immortals.
The final poems underscore steadfast devotion to the Dao—simplicity and impartiality lead to sagehood and transcendence. Breaking a flowering branch in spring to adorn one's hat symbolizes following the master to Penglai. The painted skeleton serves as a stark reminder to disciple Ma Yu (Danyangzi) to see through the body's illusory nature. These verses employ everyday metaphors to stress the essentials: pure cultivation, detachment, and accumulating virtue.
Wang Chongyang (Daoist name: Master Chongyang) conveys profound life philosophies through these vernacular poems. The first verse observes how people remain shackled by worldly worries, prompting him to sketch a memento mori - a skeletal figure reminding viewers that only death ends earthly attachments. He urges awakening to life's illusions, revealing the true treasure lies in purifying one's original mind, likening this realization to obtaining a dragon pearl (symbolizing supreme attainment) granting passage to Mount Kunlun (the Daoist sacred mountain).
In his moon poems, he playfully compares the waxing crescent to gold and the waning crescent to silver - two half-pound crescents (traditional Chinese weight measurement) completing the full-moon cycle, jesting about evenly distributing starlight within moonlight. The dwarf locust tree verse recalls how this immortal-planted tree now spreads abundant shade, evoking memories of his own planting days.
Visiting White Deer Temple (a Daoist monastery), he describes this serene "Immortal-Gathering Terrace" where legend tells of a white deer's celestial ascent. With self-deprecating humor, he quips about his visit seeming presumptuous since he's already "sleeping in white cloud caves" like an immortal. Weather metaphors illustrate human fickleness, while autumn scenes depict cool breezes, moonlight like jade cakes upon robes, and orderly constellations (including the Daoist stars of Military and Literary Virtue). The juxtaposed Upper Yuan (15th lunar January) and Lower Yuan (15th lunar October) festivals mirror cosmic harmonies.
His friend's pond becomes a modern-day Mianchi (ancient famous pool) - its calm surface hiding undercurrents mirroring life's cyclical undulations. Summer cicadas inspire liberation: shedding their black husks (metaphor for worldly bonds), they achieve weightless enlightenment in the breeze. The mid-autumn moon poem warns against mistaking tonight's transcendent glow for ordinary moonlight.
Final verses brim with Chan-like paradoxes: the lamp-trimming stick, deluded about controlling flame, gets scorched; bamboo under moonlight shatters gold, its jade-like chimes in wind standing resilient unlike common grass. Tea-drinking evokes both Zhaozhou Chan Master's famous "Go drink tea" koan and the Seven Cups of Tea ode, the latter transporting him to Penglai's immortal shores on tea-induced breezes. Gifting a fan to his nephew becomes spiritual dust-clearing - each image radiating Quanzhen Daoism's wisdom of "clarity, stillness, and non-action" (Wuwei).
Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism) expresses the core concepts of spiritual cultivation and enlightenment through this series of poems.
Regarding cultivation states, he describes practice as cleansing the mind with frost-white silk, where only by wiping away worldly dust can one open the eye of wisdom and attain eternal clarity. The full moon's radiant purity on the fifteenth night symbolizes a vision far beyond ordinary perception, representing the transcendent realms perceived by adepts.
On cultivation methods, he compares spiritual refinement to tasting celestial peaches, suggesting the joys of authentic practice surpass worldly pleasures. The teaching to "exchange falsehood for truth" guides practitioners back to their original nature, pointing the way to Penglai, the Daoist paradise. He critiques worldly obsession with fame and wealth through the metaphor of chess spectators lost in delusion, urging immediate spiritual practice before life's inevitable reckoning.
Concerning the practitioner's attitude, Wang recounts his own liberation from worldly fetters ("shattering iron nets of illusion"), now free as the bright moon or a parrot released from its cage. He advocates cultivating purity while alive, emphasizing transcendence need not wait for posthumous rituals.
The final poems reference fifth-month cultivation: joining the White Lotus Society on the first day symbolizes auspicious karmic connections, hinting at the secret alchemy of longevity; while the fifteenth emphasizes illuminating one's true nature with the "fire of wisdom" (xin tou yong huo) as essential practice.
(Note: "Frost-white silk" symbolizes purity; "Seven Stars" refers to the Big Dipper; Penglai is the Daoist immortal realm; "Spiritual Terrace" denotes the heart-mind; "Ruibin Moon" indicates the fifth lunar month)
Behold the true original face, joyfully contemplating the state of perfect fulfillment. Within the Jade Blossom Golden Lotus Society (a Daoist cultivation group), we admonish people not to cling to distinctions between "existence" and "emptiness"—what appears real may be fundamentally void, while what seems empty may conceal profound mysteries.
Cultivation is like gathering jade blossoms (symbolizing purity), where every thought must remain untainted; it is also like collecting golden lotuses (symbolizing wisdom), where every arising intention must stay immaculate. In a poem gifted to an old fisherman, it says: Returning from fishing, I see the divine turtle emerge again, knowing my affinity with the immortals. Amid the calls of fishing boats, my heart's intent becomes clear as fish leap through towering waves.
When replying to Cui Qianhu's request for wisdom, it is written: The qi of spiritual brilliance must remain pure, its essence lying in an upright heart-mind. Only then can wisdom naturally awaken and intelligence manifest. Teach all beings to harbor compassion, attaining longevity like Pengzu (the legendary long-lived sage). Only by penetrating the truths of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism can one reach the distant realm of the great Dao.
A poem written to enlighten Hao Sheng, who broke his earthenware jar: Shatter the jar of worldly attachments, and you'll see the truth beneath the guise of madness. To prevent the heart-mind from scattering, sever all deluded thoughts. During the crucial cultivation hours of Zi, Wu, Mao, and You (midnight, noon, dawn, and dusk), practice the contemplation of skeletons (a meditation on the impermanence of the physical body).
A self-mocking verse laughs: Why, in such madness, do I still crave worldly glamour? Resolve past karmic obstacles through natural accord, creating no new entanglements. Firmly tether the restless heart-mind—cultivation is as urgent as putting out a fire. Only through daily refinement can the fragrant fruits of the Dao be attained.
In a lament over skeletons, it reflects: This is the retribution for Wang Chongyang's (founder of the Quanzhen tradition) impure heart-mind in past lives. Strip away this fleshly shell to reveal the original face, bright as the mid-autumn moon.
On the realm of true coolness: Authentic coolness differs from worldly chill—it is as pure as the moon over a midnight pond or the wind after an early autumn rain.
A poem for Fan Caifu alludes to cultivation through metaphor: There is a nephew named Wang Wu-lang, whose wife is like a niece to me—their harmonious marriage symbolizes the balance of Yin and Yang. To comprehend the mercury and lead (Neidan terms for Yin and Yang qi), one must nurture the true dragon and tiger (internal vital energies). Ordinary people fail to grasp this truth, much like the sacred beasts on Red Phoenix Mountain guarding their respective domains. Secure the Dantian (energy center) as the nest, allowing East and West (Yin and Yang) to transform through union.
The true great exchange (referring to Neidan practice) requires beheading the Three Corpses (three destructive desires) within the Dantian's realm. None can fully fathom its profundity—only the spiritual child (the innate primordial spirit) delivers messages at the fifth watch (before dawn). This qi, sweet as a mountain spring, embodies the sublime state of enlightenment. Its true meaning is known to me alone; disciples must hasten their practice. Those who ignore this warning will ultimately become two withered skeletons in the wilderness.
The text concludes with the Golden Lotus Society illuminating the gateway to awakening, signifying that the path of cultivation has been clearly revealed.
This passage elucidates the core tenets of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoist cultivation. It begins with metaphorical language: the lamp of wisdom requires perpetual illumination through the "radiance of jade stamens" (referring to the pure primordial Qi), while the candle of innate nature needs enduring light through the "splendor of golden lotuses" (representing the luminosity of Shen/spirit). Internally, one must bathe in the essences of the Three Luminaries (sun, moon, and stars); externally, one must eliminate the "Four Falsehoods" (worldly desires like wine, lust, wealth, and anger).
Practitioners should emulate immortals by treading the void and exploring the profound Dao to reach a state of pristine purity. Every individual possesses a nature as precious as pearls and jade, but to fully manifest the Shen, one must first nurture the primordial Qi. Those who grasp even a fraction of this secret may attain the designation of an immortal.
The text mentions the "Jade Blossoms and Golden Lotuses Society" (a cultivation community) established across two regions, aimed at helping fellow practitioners recognize their true nature. The author criticizes those who misunderstand the fundamental principles of the Dao, focusing instead on minor techniques—mere methods for preserving health and accumulating blessings, unrelated to genuine transcendence. Even slight deviations in practice may lead one astray from the human path.
True cultivation is surprisingly simple: eat when hungry, sleep when tired—no forced meditation or artificial learning is necessary. The key lies in relinquishing worldly distractions and maintaining inner purity—these two words ("清净," qingjing, clarity and stillness) are the essence; all else is secondary. The author urges fellow cultivators to exercise wisdom and engage in daily reflection during fasting periods.
Finally, citing the words of Immortal Jin (likely Lü Dongbin), the text defines true merit and conduct: true merit means clarifying the mind, stabilizing intention, keeping the Shen unmoved, attaining genuine purity, and preserving the primordial Qi; true conduct entails cultivating benevolence, aiding the impoverished, extending help to those in distress, encouraging others toward goodness and the Dao, prioritizing others over oneself, and maintaining selflessness toward all beings. The author hopes fellow practitioners will awaken to these truths without delay.
Source text: Kanripo 漢籍リポジトリ（KR5e0055）; Licence: CC BY-SA 4.0 · Report an error / feedback