《重陽全真集》Vol. 13

Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi) wrote this series of poetic verses during his spiritual practice in the Zhongnan Mountains, using plain language to encourage cultivation. The first poem advises: Listen to my counsel—don't indulge in fleeting pleasures, for unrestrained living like wild apes or untamed horses only wastes precious time. When life ends and you're buried in a desolate grave, regret will come too late. If awakened, quickly gather your scattered mind. Face worldly temptations by relinquishing delusions and reducing desires—why must one become a monk to practice the Dao?

The place called Liquer Spring (referring to sweet-tasting spring water) boasts elegant scenery, but understand this: sever wicked karmic ties and diligently cultivate virtue—don't linger in the bustling red dust. I've already awakened and begun practicing Neidan (internal alchemy, the Daoist art of refining essence, qi, and spirit). Sometimes I compose poetry inspired by nature, and other times I ride an ox into reclusion, calling myself the "Carefree" Daoist.

On a paper banner, he wrote: May the borders know peace, war drums turn to music, and military flags transform into alms-begging banners (referring to monastic fundraising). Let there be universal harmony. I, Wang Chongyang (self-styled "Madman Carefree"), humbly offer my meager wealth in sincere prayer.

Praising noodles, he said: This shop’s knife-cut noodles are marvelous—like jade dust kneaded into dough, as delicate as fine jade, requiring a treasured blade to slice. Crafted with skillful hands, they resemble pear blossoms floating in the bowl; chopsticks lift silver-thread strands. Eating them may even lead one to transcendence.

Advising his fellow cultivator Zhao Gong: Don’t squander your youthful prime—I wish to walk the path with you. In quiet moments, recognize life’s illusions. Seeing through fleeting existence means letting go of love; understanding worldly delusions means severing greed and anger. Only then can one become an immortal in the grotto-heavens and blessed lands.

Final reflections: Before entering the Dao, don’t cling to delusions—first rein in the "mind-monkey and thought-horse" (metaphors for restless thoughts) and practice earnestly. True awakening means seeing through romantic attachments, refining the illusory body (physical form) while freeing the true nature (primordial spirit), until ascension is achieved. Begin cultivation now—fame and wealth are fleeting clouds; don’t linger in the mundane world. Grasp the profound teachings of the Three Teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, Daoism), break love’s bonds, and reach Penglai, the immortal isle—yet this paradise truly lies within your heart.

This scripture contains several poems by Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism), expressing his cultivation principles and insights on life.

The first poem reveals the essentials of cultivation: one must comprehend true meaning, control wandering thoughts (using "restless horse and monkey mind" as a metaphor for mental distraction), sever worldly desires, and practice goodness promptly. The profound principles of the Three Teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism) run deep—only by transcending superficial worldly affairs can one embark on the path to the immortal realms (Penglai), which is the true destination.

The second poem praises apricot blossoms: amid spring's beauty, the radiant apricot flowers bloom, their celestial grace surpassing even winter plum blossoms. Breaking off a branch to hold in hand, its fragrance fills the sleeves, as if one could fly with it to the Penglai paradise.

The third poem, "Spring in Wuling," admonishes worldly people: it tells villagers not to crave external things, for maintaining spiritual clarity is the root of cultivation—there's no need to arduously seek immortality. Those who grasp this truth can transcend worldly troubles.

The fourth recounts his missionary journey: Wang Chongyang traveled east to spread the Dao, passing through the Ganhe region. Though fellow practitioners lived austerely, they supported each other in teaching. United in purpose, they sought liberation from rebirth together ("emerging from the nine lotuses" symbolizes escaping the cycle of life and death).

The fifth describes preaching in Nanjing: locals revered him, and he taught them to revere heaven and earth (the "three lights" being sun, moon, and stars) and cherish food. Diligent cultivation, he assured, would surely bring attainment.

The sixth discusses wealth and cultivation: he warns against coveting glory, advocating instead for benevolent compassion. Present circumstances stem from past karma—accumulating virtue naturally brings blessings. He urges awakening to heaven's ordained ways, beyond forced striving.

The seventh poem, "Curtain of Su," laments worldly fickleness: fewer dealings mean fewer troubles. Only through integrity and simplicity comes true freedom—avoid forced socializing. Wealth attracts flattery, while poverty alienates even kin, revealing life's harsh truths.

The closing lines reveal cultivation's essence: the physical body is illusory, while true nature (primordial essence) is real. Maintaining clarity and practicing stillness (through "infant-maiden" meditation, referring to Yin-Yang harmonization in Neidan [internal alchemy]) leads to the great Dao.

This poetic passage reveals how Quanzhen Daoist patriarch Wang Chongyang (Master Chongyang) used poetry to enlighten practitioners, containing several core cultivation concepts:

The first stanza describes the state of cultivation. When discussing the Great Dao (Da), the mind suddenly opens, revealing the spiritual pearl of one's original nature (referring to the primordial spirit, Shen). This priceless treasure ascends to the jade terrace of immortal realms, roaming freely in eternal serenity. Practitioners immerse themselves like passing wine cups in a banquet, witnessing auspicious signs manifesting in the void during tranquil stillness—white, black, yellow, and red lights (phenomena of Qi illumination in Neidan practice). These are not illusions but crystalline jade flowers (alchemical visions), even attracting the mythical beast Bixi (one of the dragon's sons) to pay homage. Such wonders deserve celestial admiration.

The second stanza unveils the key to practice. It warns against exhausting essence (Jing) and vital energy (Qi) through emotional attachments, urging a return to self-cultivation. One must recognize the "three authentic uprights" within (referring to the treasures of Jing, Qi, and Shen). Through the union of the "charming maiden" (original spirit) and the "infant" (original essence), nurtured by the "yellow matron" (harmonizing true intention), the internal elixir (Neidan) is formed. Drinking the "knife-shaped spoonful" (metaphor for the elixir) connects one to all directions, ultimately merging with the Dao and ascending step by step into cloud-wreathed immortal realms.

Subsequent poems employ life metaphors for cultivation:

• Weaving baskets parallels practice: Like intertwining willow twigs and hemp threads (representing breath regulation and Qi refinement), it harmonizes body and mind until transcending the mortal frame.
• Awakening the deluded: Ordinary people remain bound by worldly desires (iron chains), blind to their innate radiance. The verse advises seeking cool liberation (pure mind) rather than drifting like tumbleweeds.
• Warning about cultivation timing: If one fails to "turn back" during the "two eights" period (implied prime age for practice), they risk sinking in the sea of suffering. Polishing one's nature like a luminous pearl builds the "seven-treasure golden pagoda" (metaphor for solid alchemical foundation) within.

The final poem to a friend emphasizes essential methods: Maintain purity, withdraw from worldly distractions, and awaken the cultivation mind early. Extinguish delusional thoughts (ordinary fire symbolizing desires) and secure the spiritual light at the mystic pass (locked mountain peak) to ride five-colored auspicious clouds toward the Dao. The closing phrase "introspection and silent restraint" reveals the root—inner reflection and stillness lead to true liberation.

The path to longevity begins with distancing oneself from ill-gotten wealth, withdrawing one's desires like receding clouds. Drink alcohol in moderation, steer clear of sensual pleasures, and rediscover the innate beauty of life's true essence. Maintain reverence for the Three Radiances (sun, moon, and stars, representing cosmic righteousness), practice filial piety and brotherly love—then even without praying to deities, longevity will naturally follow.

A word to young friends: Why drown in carnal pleasures during your prime instead of awakening to reality? If enlightened in time to walk with the Dao, you'll dwell in carefree transcendence. Good affinities will come, bad ones depart naturally. When your spiritual platform (the mind's nature) beholds its original face, and the seven apertures (sensory gateways) connect with the source, you'll leap beyond the cycle of rebirth onto the path of immortality.

To fellow cultivators: True practice demands unwavering determination—cast away sorrows and distractions. Wield wisdom's blade to sever the five aggregates (form, sensation, perception, mental formations, consciousness), cleave through the body's dual passes (likely the Governing and Conception vessels), and steadfastly accomplish the Three Treasures (Jing, Qi, Shen). No need for excessive questions; simply study daily the teachings handed down. Like discovering a luminous pearl of truth within your home, you'll enter a realm of refreshing liberation.

For scholars seeking cultivation: Since skilled in poetry and civil examinations, why not pursue the Ninefold Golden Elixir (Daoism's supreme accomplishment)? A single glance backward lets you tread cloud-like with effortless grace. Follow the Three Radiances to find a master—therein lies the secure path to immortality. Open your heart's gate to wander freely, ultimately returning to merge with the Great Dao.

Instruction for disciples: Fellow practitioners must cultivate in unity. When diverging from worldly ways, often seal your speech. Debate not over lead-mercury (Neidan terminology) theories—opening the Crimson Palace (heart's chamber) brings natural freedom. Heaven and earth's two modes (Yin-Yang) are utterly real; the Three Radiances shine bright. Though I wish to impart true methods, your comprehension determines the teaching. When genuine understanding dawns, celestial secrets will gradually unfold.

The essential method of true cultivation: Cling not to bodily desires. Shatter external pursuits to constantly observe within. Maintain awareness whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying—gradually making this second nature. Within your body's eight-acre Dantian (energy center) lies a wondrous new realm. Only with clarified mind-nature can true delight be tasted; proper mastery leads to the refreshing shore.

The Great Dao speaks no words; Chan's principles defy explanation—only two white lights (likely Yin-Yang) and crimson mists (vitality's symbol) manifest. Your jade-like true nature often appears atop spiritual mountains, crystalline as ice reflecting sunlight. The purer your transparency, the brighter your illumination of clear skies. At the ultimate mysterious threshold, golden blossoms (symbol of attainment) naturally bear the Golden Elixir (primordial life essence).

The adept (Xing Gong), through discerning worldly affections and severing mundane ties, manifests the radiance of spiritual illumination within, like a lotus in full bloom. At this stage, one must harmonize Yin and Yang (with the Crimson Maiden representing Yin and the Infant representing Yang) to comprehend the profound mysteries of the Dao. By relinquishing sorrows and focusing wholeheartedly on cultivation, gathering the primordial Qi (vital energy) coalesces into a treasured jewel, akin to a piece of five-colored jade stored in the Dantian (energy center, with Kunlun symbolizing the head). During practice, it emits a brilliance rivaling the sun and moon.

The Great Dao (Dao) is nameless yet seems to have a name. Bodhidharma attained purity through nine years of wall-gazing, while Shakyamuni grasped the essence after six years of ascetic practice in the snow-capped mountains. Upon realizing the wondrous function of the realm of true emptiness, the radiant wisdom emerges from the Mysterious Pass (Xuanguan), ultimately achieving perfection in the Great Brahma Heaven (Daluo Tian, the highest celestial realm in Daoism).

The practitioner visualizes the Seven-Jeweled Garden in the void, opening the tranquil Six-Flower Pavilion. The subtle and imperceptible Dao (Xiyi) permeates heaven and earth, penetrating the three hundred characters of the Yin Fu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Talisman) and comprehending the five thousand words of the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue). The self-proclaimed "Harmful Wind" (Wang Chongyang's nickname) cultivator devoutly seeks the Dao.

By the emerald waters, ascending the snow-capped mountain, the spirit (Shen, symbolized by the Jade Gate Pass, a crucial point in the body) suddenly awakens. In the stillness of emptiness, clarity dawns, revealing the path back to the origin, ensuring steadfast cultivation thereafter. Such purity surpasses even the white clouds.

On the Double Ninth Festival (Chongyang), the golden tiger roars, the golden steed gallops, and the Golden Lord (Jin Gong, representing the internal elixir) scatters golden coins. Where the golden wind blows, golden ornaments dance, golden stamens bloom across the land, golden children pluck golden lotuses, and golden immortals (achieved through cultivation) are offered on golden plates.

This twelve-character verse teaches that cultivation must follow the proper timing. One must firmly rein in the "monkey mind and horse thoughts" (metaphors for scattered thoughts), allowing the Five Qi (energies of the five organs) to harmonize naturally, thereby entering the deep grotto-heaven amidst jade blossoms. Alas, in the past, such understanding was rare.

The writing brush (Mao Ying) has long carried profound meaning—do not follow Jiang Yan, who lost his talent in a dream, but emulate Ban Chao, who cast aside his brush to join the army. Let the true nature express elegance freely; without forced poetry, one may still chant loftily. This time, the truth is grasped like retrieving gold from water.

For four consecutive nights, no chill is felt, thanks to the care of Master Sun (possibly Sun Bu’er). Brushing aside the clouds, sleeves enter Chang’an (symbolizing the Dantian), turning back to enlighten the wise in refining the Great Elixir. Why return from Chang’an? Only to let the heart-mind blossom like a five-petaled lotus. Another cup of aged clear brew, drunk alone, may spare one the cycles of hell.

People say the tongue brings calamity, but I say its root is the true source of trouble. Speaking not a word all day, passing time in tranquility—this is the way to preserve life.

For the wanderer between clouds and waters, do not despair in solitude; quietly contemplate the bright moon (Qing Lun). Realize the wind...

Auspicious clouds drift across the heavens, immortal mists pervade the air, as jade blossoms exude rich fragrance and golden lotuses bloom with celestial perfume. Who can truly comprehend these two divine wonders? Only by following nature's course can one perceive the transformations of heaven and earth. Crimson mists entwine while emerald vapors swirl, as time flows and sunlight bathes all—this scene rivals the paradise of Penglai. When one achieves true cultivation, they shall witness phoenixes dancing amidst colored clouds and golden boys presenting purple lingzhi herbs. Yet to behold my true form again, one must reconnect severed strings of immortal affinity like mending a broken lute. I exhort all to diligently practice, swiftly transcending the mundane world to reach distant grotto-heavens.

The lyric poem "Lament of Lady Zhaojun" admonishes people to promptly escape the burning house of worldly existence and abandon mundane attachments. Before one's eyes only carefree waters and clouds remain, while the heart dwells in peaceful contentment. Through prolonged cultivation of the Golden Elixir (Jindan) path, one ultimately becomes an immortal of the upper realms, reuniting with kindred spirits beneath moonlit jade pools.

The series of cultivation songs "The Fuller's Chant" employs the recurring refrain "luo-li-luo" to expound essential teachings: In this mortal life, the physical body is but a temporary amalgamation of earth, water, fire and wind—not the true self. Only by seeking the mysterious Dao, escaping delusion's maze, and nurturing essence (Jing), energy (Qi) and spirit (Shen) through stillness can one attain realization. Like a monkey wildly riding a horse, our restless thoughts are hard to tame—they must be severed with the sword of wisdom to perceive our original nature.

The great Dao (Da Dao) is perfectly harmonious and unobstructed, existing within emptiness. Though seemingly profound and unfathomable, upon enlightenment one discovers it present in everyday speech and laughter. The Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) teachings transmitted by Master Chongyang (Wang Chongyang) emphasize the transformative interplay of yin-yang—appearing inverted yet following perfect order. Using the Golden Elixir art (symbolized by "knife and spoon" alchemical tools) to shatter delusions, one unites spirit and energy. Just as lotuses emerge unstained from mud, our original nature remains pure—when lead and mercury (alchemical terms for vital energies) interact, innate radiance manifests. The "metal within water" (primordial qi) remains profoundly elusive, yet persistent practice reveals its presence, like the west wind occasionally bearing pure Daoist melodies.

This poem from the Chongyang Quanzhen Ji employs the distinctive refrain "li ling li luo ling" to express the spiritual insights of Wang Chongyang, founder of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition. The content unfolds in three sections:

The first stanza uses specialized Daoist terminology like the "Three Treasures of the Elixir" (referring to the upper, middle, and lower Dantian) and "Kan-Li" (the water and fire trigrams from the Bagua, representing Yin-Yang) to convey essential cultivation methods. It emphasizes that true practice doesn't lie in forced alchemical refinement or extreme asceticism, but in maintaining a mind as clear as "purified water" and as luminous as "glistening snow," achieving enlightenment through natural awakening.

The second poem, Dian Jiang Chun ("Rouged Lips"), employs metaphorical language to depict spiritual cultivation. The "beloved child" symbolizes the practitioner's original mind, suggesting one must sever the "hempen ropes" of worldly attachments, only to find themselves bound by "copper chains" (representing deeper fixations). This implies that Daoist practice requires relinquishing all forms of grasping.

The third section contains two poems dedicated to fellow practitioners. The first praises a friend's innate aptitude for cultivation ("natural infant and maiden" denoting primordial purity), encouraging them to seize moments of tranquility for practice. The second uses the "vegetable-gathering youth" as a metaphor for cultivators, advising them to perceive the Dao through seasonal changes while releasing attachments ("refrain from exertion" meaning to avoid forced striving).

Collectively, these works embody the Quanzhen tradition's emphasis on "tranquil non-action" (Wuwei), advocating mindful presence in daily life while rejecting cultivation methods that obsess over supernatural powers or elixirs.

This scripture employs the metaphor of seasonal changes to depict the toil and illusion of worldly life, ultimately guiding people toward the path of Daoist cultivation.

Spring portrays merchants carrying goods in pursuit of profit, busily cutting fabric in silk shops. Though outwardly prosperous, their hearts remain burdened with concerns for wives and children. Summer uses the figure of the "Fourteenth Lad" (symbolizing worldly people) laboring under the scorching sun, competing in cleverness at bustling venues. Though accumulating gold, silver, and fine silks, he toils alone, unaware for whom he truly strives.

Autumn continues with the Fourteenth Lad, illustrating the decline of middle age: fading looks, graying hair, a hunched back, deafness, and failing eyesight, all while enduring the complaints of wife and daughters. Winter depicts the misery of old age and illness, bedridden and feeble, until his spirit descends to the underworld, never reaching the heavenly realms.

Then the text shifts abruptly, presenting the path of transcendence: better to relinquish attachments and seek cool serenity in emptiness. If one can fathom the profound mystery—like the moon reflected in a deep pool—they will see through worldly illusions. With scriptures as companions, burning incense in quiet cultivation, one may finally attain immortality, riding phoenixes and luan birds to ascend to the celestial realms.

The final three lyrics further elaborate on the stages of cultivation: Unfettered Freedom describes a mind as clear as a luminous pearl once freed from material desires; A Thousand Autumns laments the dreamlike chaos of the mundane world, where only by eradicating attachments can one behold the true Dao; A Wisp of Cloud Over Mount Wu portrays the carefree ease of a cultivator facing the wind and moon, wielding a brush to inscribe scriptures, with the blossoming of the Jeweled Tree symbolizing the wondrous state of enlightenment.

(Note: "Fourteenth Lad" is a Daoist archetype for worldly people; "riding phoenixes and luan birds" symbolizes attaining immortality; "Jade Grotto" and "Jeweled Tree" are Daoist depictions of the celestial realm.)

This poetic passage expresses the cultivation insights of Wang Chongyang (Daoist name "Harmful Wind"), patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school, using multiple ci poetry forms to convey the carefree state attained after realizing the Dao.

The opening depicts the wondrous scenery of Penglai, the immortal isles that represent the ideal destination for cultivators. When mentioning the "golden incense-attending boys" (immortal youths serving deities in Daoism), it emphasizes that cultivation requires relinquishing all attachments while maintaining a mind as clear as still water. Upon achieving cultivation success, one's body and mind become as stable as mountains and seas, attaining true freedom. Enveloped in crimson clouds, the cultivator can "transform jade into form" (symbolizing the metamorphosis into an immortal), radiating luminous brilliance.

The poem "Chrysanthemum Fresh" employs the Double Ninth Festival's chrysanthemums (a major Daoist holiday) as metaphors for the cultivator's noble aspirations. Calling himself "Harmful Wind" (Wang Chongyang's Daoist name), the poet advises people not to cling to superficial appearances but instead seek the jade feasts of the immortal realm.

"Magnolia Flower Decree" uses cranes as allegories, depicting their unfettered existence to subtly suggest cultivators should similarly transcend worldly concerns like these celestial birds. Six cranes accompanying the poet to Penglai symbolize the purified state of the six senses.

"Yu the Beauty" reveals key Neidan (internal alchemy) techniques: maintaining stillness in the Dantian (the alchemical furnace) while preserving mental serenity. Only by harmonizing lead and mercury (Neidan terminology representing yin and yang energies) can one comprehend the Dao's profound truth. The imagery of clear breeze and bright moon hints at the state of unity with the Dao.

The concluding sections describe mid-autumn cultivation experiences: under the full moon's radiance, the practitioner perceives the cosmos' luminous essence and realizes the mystery of yin-yang dynamics. When the moon reaches its zenith, the cultivator's yang-spirit (refined spiritual consciousness) may soar beyond the firmament, attaining transcendent states. Throughout the text flows the essence of Neidan practice, showcasing the Daoist cultivator's pursuit of liberation and ultimate unity with the Dao.

This scripture contains Wang Chongyang's (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] tradition of Daoism) poetic explanations of cultivation principles through popular verse forms, comprising several advisory poems composed to various lyric meters. Here's a section-by-section interpretation:

The first segment, "Willow Branch," speaks of the need for self-vigilance in practice: Human life demands careful personal examination, as viscerally real as feeling a blade against one's throat. The hardest part of Dao cultivation lies in initiating the sincere resolve (发心) - like the sharp pain that makes one recoil from needle pricks, yet one must overcome this aversion to worldly comforts.

"Gourd Drum Society," the second part, employs pea metaphors: Ordinary peas manifest five directional colors through different cooking methods (steaming, frying, boiling, roasting, or raw), subtly illustrating diverse cultivation approaches. Like winning chess without brute force, true practice wisdom remains little known, requiring balanced moderation ("neither grasp too much nor too little") and harmony with natural rhythms ("three lights" denoting sun, moon, and stars).

The "Moon Over West River" segment presents essential techniques: First eliminate selfish thoughts and restrain material desires (reduce wealth, moderate lust), while nurturing the Dantian (the body's energy center). Facing circumstances, act compassionately without forced striving. Wang recounts leaving home despite family grievances, valuing carefree wandering above all - this liberated mindset being most precious.

The fourth section emphasizes mind cultivation: Rather than superficial adornment (like growing long nails), refine one's inner nature. Ceaseless worldly pursuits pale against investigating profound truths; "gold within water" symbolizes hidden cultivation secrets, warning against wasted time.

"Oars on the River" reveals progressive stages: Comprehending celestial mechanisms (natural laws) requires gradual realization. Beginning with midnight star contemplation, systematic practice ultimately achieves bodily transcendence. Wang's self-mocking term "harmful wind" conveys his profound grasp of Daoist truths.

These poems employ daily analogies (chess, peas, needle pain) to stress desire-free mind cultivation and Wuwei (non-action) practice, embodying Quanzhen's core principle of "dual cultivation of nature and life" (性 命双修).

This poetic passage captures the inner alchemy (Neidan) experiences of Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi), patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school. The self-deprecating term "harmful wind" humorously refers to his own perceived eccentricity as a "madman."

During the second watch of night, gazing at the Milky Way's endless surging waves, he observes silver blossoms (jade flowers) condensing in the west, from which golden sprouts (yellow buds) emerge, accumulating snow-pure energy upon their shells. An agile child (representing the inner spirit/shen) gestures mysteriously, yet words fail to capture this profound sensation.

At the third watch, the flawless silver moon exhales luminous radiance. In the southern direction, a white deer (symbolizing pure yang qi) carries away newly congealed crystalline energy, chewing alone atop Guifeng Mountain. Such cultivation experiences transcend verbal description.

During the fourth watch, the Big Dipper's torch-like starlight illuminates the void. Eastern jade flowers flash with lightning brilliance, shimmering like shards of divine jade. These vividly perceived energies are wholly absorbed in the deep night—another ineffable state.

By the fifth watch, the complete seven stars of the Dipper align with celestial patterns. Centrally gathered jade flowers capture the qi of pure emptiness, transcending the cycle of life and death. This carefree liberation remains a solitary realization.

The latter section shifts to personal reflection: Wang Chongyang (styled Zhiming) calls himself a "living dead man" while observing jade flowers coalesce during his cultivation on Zhongnan Mountain. Alchemical references appear—the harmonizing of lead and mercury (yin-yang energies), the golden bell and jade chime (mystical inner sounds during practice), and the simple-minded shepherd boy (symbolizing untamed worldly desires) who requires the "whip" of disciplined practice to be subdued.

The closing phrase "libation to the river moon" suggests offering moonlight as sacred wine to heaven and earth, embodying the Daoist practitioner's unity with nature. Through magnificent imagery, the poem depicts the energetic transformations during nocturnal Neidan practice across different watches, suffused with the unique mystical sensibility of Daoist cultivation.

This passage from the Chongyang Quanzhen Ji (Complete Perfection Collection of Chongyang) primarily discusses the cultivation states and worldly attitudes of Daoist practitioners.

In terms of cultivation, one must maintain a pure and open heart, eliminating distracting thoughts to achieve a state of bodily purity. By safeguarding the Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) (the "Three Yangs"), and ensuring the Five Spirit-Deities (Wushen) of the internal organs remain in their proper places, one can remain energetically vibrant even without sleep. Upon reaching a certain stage of cultivation, the Golden Elixir (Jindan) will coalesce, radiating light throughout the body, until finally encountering an enlightened master who grants the ultimate transformation—ascending to the immortal realms.

Regarding worldly conduct, the text emphasizes contentment with fate. Wealth, status, and poverty are all predestined, and one should not strive excessively for them. Riches and honor are as fleeting as floating clouds, and human life is as transient as dew on grass, uncertain from morning to night. Greed should be diminished, and others should be treated with equality—never abusing power to oppress the weak. One should show compassion for the orphaned and elderly while preserving an innocent and genuine nature.

The final passages depict the heights of cultivation: practicing in deep mountain caves, witnessing miraculous visions of coiling dragons and tigers, jade blossoms descending, and ultimately shedding the mortal body as the true spirit soars into the azure heavens. Like the sunrise over Mount Kunlun illuminating the immortal isle of Penglai, only by maintaining a serene and carefree mind can one attain this transcendent state.

These poems from the Complete Perfection Collection of Chongyang reveal essential techniques and spiritual states in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice.

The first poem, "Waves Scouring Sand," teaches practitioners to minimize external distractions and maintain inner purity. When Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) condense to their utmost, a divine radiance (treasured light) will manifest above the head. By steadfastly preserving vital essence and taming the "mind-monkey and thought-horse" (metaphors for restless thoughts), one may witness miraculous visions—jade trees and crystalline flowers, accompanied by ethereal fragrances and countless silver rays encircling the body.

The second poem, "Lotus Born from Fire," depicts the firing process in Neidan. Yang energy rises from the lower Dantian (earth gate), blazing like flames until it transforms into a red lotus (symbolizing pure yang) within the body. Recognizing the "clear spring" (true Qi) and gathering "spiritual mist" (internal energy) in the Dantian renews both body and mind.

The third poem advises cultivators to live earnestly without disputing right and wrong. Even when facing legal accusations, one should remain serene. Such equanimity naturally increases blessings and longevity while bringing honor to one's lineage.

"Spring in Brocade Hall" emphasizes grounding practice in daily life. Begin by cultivating joyful awareness, gradually discovering the true path. Maintain an open heart, perceiving profundity within leisure. Sudden awakening transcends the sea of suffering, revealing one's original face and returning to the source.

"The Earthen Bowl Song" uses a clay pot as a metaphor for the physical body. No matter how loudly it's struck (external show), true understanding comes from realizing: divination tools pale before inner realization. High or low, all must release attachments, extinguish the fire of afflictions, and live in accordance with conditions. Upon achieving merit, one soars through clouds—only then realizing the clay bowl (physical form) need not be shattered.

Finally, "Celebrating the Sacred Dawn" portrays winter solstice's nascent yang energy. "Yellow sprouts" (Neidan term for nascent true Qi) emerge, nourished by "jade nectar" (kidney water), while "metal and wood merge" (represented by celestial stems Jia/Yi and Geng/Xin)—revealing the celestial cycle of internal alchemy.

This passage describes certain states and realizations in Daoist cultivation practice. "The radiant glow of auspicious pearls with propitious light" refers to the luminous phenomena that arise within the body during practice—this radiance continuously ascends beyond the clouds. "The golden interval must not be missed" indicates the importance of seizing the right moment in cultivation without missing crucial junctures. "Toad light" (a traditional metaphor for moonlight) symbolizes the illuminated states achieved through practice, while "the movement of the sundial" represents the flow of time.

Practitioners must trace back to the fundamental source to attain miraculous effects. When the vital energy (Qingqiang Qi) within becomes active, one finds true support. "No medicine exists in written words" reveals that the true elixir isn't found in superficial texts but through personal realization. "Heaven knows destiny resides in supreme heights" suggests that only by aligning with celestial will can one reach profound states.

"The cool illumination at the prefectural residence" denotes achieving pure and serene cultivation realms, while "ascending the tower in the southern city" metaphorically represents different stages of practice. Finally, "joy by day and delight by night" describes how practitioners maintain harmonious contentment at all times, ultimately attaining unity with the Dao (Daode). The entire passage employs metaphorical language to depict the process and experiences of internal alchemy (Neidan) cultivation.