《重陽全真集》Vol. 2

These poems from the Chongyang Quanzhen Ji were composed by Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi), the founding patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school of Daoism. They encompass insights on spiritual cultivation, verses dedicated to fellow practitioners, and admonitions for worldly life.

The first poem, Farewell at the Grave, speaks of transcending worldly attachments: true cultivation is like dissipating smoke—letting go of all clinging, maintaining inner emptiness, and forsaking mundane pleasures. Leaving behind the ancestral grave symbolizes liberation from the cycle of life and death. When one refines their nature to perfection, they become an immortal beyond material existence. Not only does the practitioner attain sainthood, but even seven generations of ancestors may ascend to the celestial realms.

In a poem dedicated to Master Sengzhao, he writes: Cultivation should be like a seed breaking free from the earth—true practice begins with awakening the mind. The enlightened "eye of the Dao" (wisdom’s vision) sees beyond the dust of the world, nourishing the spirit as one waters roots. When reaching the celestial palaces, transformation occurs—like a black ox turning blue or a white ox roaring—signifying rebirth.

A poem for Grand Councilor Fu employs the metaphor of Fu Yue, the virtuous minister of the Shang dynasty: a cultivator must attain the same clarity of mind as the ancient sages. Master the key to the dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu), skillfully harmonizing Yin-Yang, and uniting water and fire (symbolizing the refined essence and vital energy within). The subtlest details reveal true effort—without genuine practice, one is like a star obscured by clouds, unable to ascend the immortal path.

Reflections describes the state of cultivation: single-mindedly refining the Threefold Unity (the fusion of Jing, Qi, and Shen), the heart becomes pure as fragrant clarity. In quietude, one contemplates the radiance of the Dao, naturally dispelling vexations. The teachings of the Three Teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, Daoism) share the same truth, yet worldly men drown in wealth, unable to grasp this seemingly mad yet profound wisdom.

In an admonition to Practitioner Wang, he depicts: after long cultivation, the body grows light as a swallow, riding cloud-chariots in smooth flight. Ordinary men fail to recognize the value of clouds and waters (the reclusive life), while the gathering of immortals is truly the communion of Jing, Qi, and Shen. The method of the ox-cart (a Neidan term) remains elusive to common understanding; the roar of the tiger (symbolizing the circulation of true Qi) is known only to oneself. Staying aloof from disputes and focusing on cultivation surpasses even visiting famed scenic sites.

A poem harmonizing with Lü Dongbin (the Pure Yang Perfected) states: at this stage, one may wash away worldly toils with clear springs, transcending material existence. Human disputes flow like water; a thousand years of refinement yield the true fruit. In sudden awakening, it is as if one beholds the white lotus (emblem of purity), the spirit soaring directly to the Great Canopy Heaven (the highest celestial realm).

Exhortation serves as a warning: losing human form (falling into wretched rebirth) leads to endless kalpas of suffering, yet men remain deluded by fleeting illusions. Obsession with love is like sinking into a sea of bitterness; clinging to grudges resembles imprisonment on a mountain of sorrow. Countless obstacles bar the path to the Dao—each person squanders life in the dusty world. Who can relinquish attachments as precious as jewels? In the end, all will lie beneath wild mounds and barren hills.

Joy Upon Reaching Liquan Again speaks of Neidan practice: the mutual nourishment of water and fire (heart and kidneys) completes the great Dao, while three conditions (timeliness, favorable terrain, and human accord) nurture the Dantian (the lower elixir field). Through years of cultivation, one finally becomes a carefree transcendent. Though dwelling in mountain valleys seems lonely, it is the true realm of the great recluse—hidden even within the bustling world.

This passage contains selected poems and teachings from Wang Chongyang (Master Chongyang), the founder of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school of Daoism, taken from his anthology Chongyang Quanzhen Ji. The works encompass insights on spiritual cultivation, exhortations toward virtuous living, and instructions on Daoist practice.

The opening section depicts a zhaijiao (purification ritual) ceremony held in Liu-Jiang Village at Mount Zhongnan, suggesting that sincere ritual observance can secure celestial blessings and liberate ancestral spirits. The "Self-Description" segment reveals essential cultivation methods: practitioners should refine their practice like polishing precious pearls, maintain simple diets (such as wheat-based meals), preserve mental clarity, eliminate distractions, and achieve the alchemical state of "water and fire in harmony" through Yin-Yang balancing.

In subsequent dedicatory poems, Wang employs metaphorical language to impart Daoist principles to seekers: using "white flour and golden rice" to symbolize Yin-Yang harmonization, or "female-headed infants" and "infant-mouthed maidens" to allude to the transformative interplay of cosmic forces. His verse to disciple Lai Yanzhong emphasizes transcending worldly temptations of the "three luminaries" (wine, lust, and wealth) to return to one's authentic nature.

The final poems continue employing symbolic imagery—bamboo ("Green Bamboo Studio") and the full moon—to illustrate how Daoist cultivation requires maintaining centeredness and receptivity. Like evergreen bamboo through the seasons or the self-revealing moon at its zenith, these images embody Quanzhen's core principles of "dual cultivation of nature and life" (xingming shuangxiu) and "tranquil non-action" (qingjing wuwei). Throughout the collection, Wang employs Neidan (internal alchemy) terminology—such as "the maiden and infant" (chanü ying'er) and "samadhi" (sanmei)—to elucidate essential cultivation techniques.

Selected passages from Chongyang's Complete Perfection Collection interpreted in plain language:

Master Wang Chongyang uses the metaphor of an infant to represent the beginner’s mind in cultivation, advising practitioners to trim away distracting thoughts as one would sharpen a sword. The true Golden Elixir (the core of Neidan practice) is difficult for ordinary people to comprehend, but if one can refine their Qi up to the Niwan Palace (a key acupoint at the crown of the head in Neidan terminology), they will attain the carefree state of Penglai, the immortal paradise.

In a poem dedicated to Zhao Wenlin, a magistrate of Zhongnan, he praises the official for maintaining purity despite worldly obligations, noting that his accumulated De (virtue/power) has earned him celestial favor—a noble character unmatched by others. Another poem, thanking Lord Ningbo, depicts the Daoist cultivator content with a simple life: coarse food surpassing delicacies, quiet meditation in graveyards filling one with vibrant Shen (spirit). Such a realm can only be truly understood by an enlightened master like Wang Chongyang himself.

Verses on alms-seeking as spiritual practice describe begged barley rice as more precious than exotic fragrances. Through modest nourishment, one refines the "Four Falsehoods" (the Daoist concept of the body’s illusory components); though the physical form ages, merit grows daily. When bidding farewell to Master Fu, he employs bovine and equine symbolism: an ox’s bellow represents refined Jing (essence), while a horse’s neigh signifies harmonized Yin-Yang—hailing Fu Youzhen (Fu’s Daoist name) as a transcendent Zhenren (True Person).

Responding to a fellow cultivator’s query, he clarifies that refining the heart-mind requires a mirror-like clarity: first achieving inner luminosity, then transcending samsara. Regarding Fulu (talismanic rituals), he depicts immortals gathering to inscribe jade-seal sigils, emphasizing the Five Phases’ generative cycles—a single empowered talisman can reach the celestial court. Finally, the implicit meaning behind Master Wang of Tianchang Temple seeking transmission lies in the profound bond between teacher and disciple.

This excerpt from the Chongyang Quanzhen Ji is a collection of poetry by Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi), patriarch of the Quanzhen tradition. The first section describes meditative states: when practitioners attain the "fundamental truth of the Hua School" (the Daoist ultimate reality), their body and mind radiate "wondrous colored light" as if returning to primordial authenticity. The interplay of yin-yang energies within (De's fire representing heart-fire, sharp blossoms representing kidney-water) manifests as crimson flames and violet rays, ultimately crystallizing into the "infant" (a Neidan term denoting the cultivated body of pure yang) – achieving the perfection of one who has ingested the Golden Elixir (Jindan).

The second passage reveals cultivation essentials: true practice lies in comprehending the mystery within mysteries, while flexibly applying foundational theories like the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) and Four Symbols (greater/lesser yin-yang). Practitioners should move freely like golden scales leaving water (transcending mundanity), remaining translucent as jade wrists greeting the wind (unstained purity). The poem specially acknowledges fellow cultivator Jiang Gong.

In verses dedicated to Ma Yu (Wang's chief disciple, later leader of the Seven Quanzhen Masters), the character "Yu" (钰) is deconstructed into "gold-jade," comparing spiritual refinement to forging precious metal moment by moment. Upon achieving the "Leakless Fruit" (perfection), the Three Dantian (energy centers) glow like moonlight, and after the yang-spirit completes its Nine Transformations (Neidan stages), true nature resides atop jade terraces like exquisite carved jade.

The oceanic metaphor reveals advanced cultivation: adepts should emulate the sea's vast containment, where waves reveal golden carapaces of the Three Ao (mythic turtles) and patterns of the Nine Luminaries (celestial bodies), ultimately reaching the transcendent state of "wave-heart without ground" (utter mental clarity).

Poems for fellow practitioner Han Maoxian emphasize natural cultivation: be like lotuses in water, disentangled from worldly trivialities (cotton-like vulgarities) and dust-laden toil. The key lies in harmonizing the Three Dantian while maintaining pristine awareness.

Other short poems include: "Meeting the Master" recounts receiving oral transmissions at age forty-eight; "Life Span" self-deprecatingly references Wang's nickname "Harmful Wind" and predicts his death before fifty-eight; "Dragon Boat Festival" uses the holiday to discuss subduing dragon-tiger (heart-fire and kidney-water); "On My Brother's Death" criticizes those mourning kin without understanding生死 transcendence; the final poem rejects ancestral sacrifices, embodying Quanzhen's view that "the physical form decays, but true nature endures."

Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi) expounds the core cultivation principles of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition through these poetic verses:

Regarding the practice of the Golden Elixir (Jindan) path, he explains: All three hundred sixty joints of the human body contain primordial qi (referred to as "golden bone joints"), which can become luminous and transparent through cultivation. Spiritual practice resembles mountain thunderstorms cleansing all things - it purifies both body and mind ("yellow sprouts" symbolize nascent yang energy, while "white snow" represents purity). The true Golden Elixir isn't an external substance but our innate authentic nature; by abandoning desires and delusions (the "four falsities" being wine, lust, wealth, and anger), one naturally transcends worldly existence.

He admonishes practitioners to understand heavenly mandate: even during periods of good fortune, one must remember karmic retribution, as accumulated misdeeds will eventually be reckoned. In "Burning the Hermitage," the act of setting his thatched hut ablaze demonstrates that true practice values substance over form, rejecting superficial religiosity.

In poems dedicated to fellow Daoists: He cautions Pan Shisilang about speech karma through the metaphor of "silver-wrapped golden-rimmed iron lips"; praises Siwugong (alluding to recluses like the "Seven-Pine Scholar" and "Five-Willow Gentleman") for transcending worldly dust; advises Dong Defu that though still youthful ("green temples"), he remains trapped in mundane affairs; and rhetorically asks Master Du - who seeks the Dao - if he knows the true master of Kunlun's immortal peaks (hinting that the Dao resides within).

To the abbess, he plays on the dual meaning of "hui-ding" (wisdom-stillness) to emphasize meditative insight; for Dai Yuegui, laurel blossoms become celestial seeds from the moon palace, suggesting cultivation opportunities; finally, he reminds Feng Wulang of the fundamental difference between tax office mundanity and the realm of Dao cultivation.

These poems extensively employ natural imagery (bright moon, clear breeze, phoenix trees, violet flowers) to symbolize spiritual states, emphasizing that inner refinement outweighs external formalities - perfectly embodying the Quanzhen doctrine of "dual cultivation of nature and life" (xingming shuangxiu).

Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi) playfully describes his "living dead" cultivation method in this poem. On Zhongnan Mountain, he dug a tomb chamber, hung a plaque reading "Spirit Tablet of Lord Wang," and lived alone in the tomb for over two years—using this extreme method to sever worldly attachments.

The poem repeatedly emphasizes the state of being a "living dead": treating the physical body as a temporary vessel composed of earth, water, fire, and wind (the four Buddhist elements), while within the tomb he "shatters emptiness" and "tramples worldly ties." He mentions taking "true elixir medicine" (Neidan internal alchemy practice) in the tomb, attaining through quiet meditation the realm of "empty stillness," emerging like a white lotus unstained by dust. Though such practice appears absurd, its true purpose is to help practitioners see through life and death—gaining liberation from the Six Dusts (form, sound, scent, taste, touch, and mental phenomena) through this extreme experience of "finding death within life."

Calling himself a "wind-afflicted one" (madman) in self-mockery, he nevertheless realizes the "true message" within the tomb: cultivation lies not in external forms but in transcendent mental refinement. The final mention of "the five grains sustaining the bodily cause" hints that spiritual practice still requires practical support like nourishment, rather than complete detachment from life. Written in the wild language of "crazy Zen," the poem expresses Quanzhen Daoism's core philosophy of "dual cultivation of nature and life" (xingming shuangxiu).

This passage presents the cultivation insights of Wang Chongyang (the True Man Chongyang), patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school of Daoism, expressed through his paradoxical poem "Living Dead Man." It uses seemingly contradictory language to expound the philosophy of spiritual refinement.

The term "living dead man" describes practitioners who, while physically present in the mundane world, have transcended worldly desires. The inverted rhythm of sleeping by day and waking at night symbolizes liberation from conventional understanding. The tomb metaphor represents the practitioner's body as a sepulcher containing the true "divine child" (referring to the primordial Shen/spirit), while those attached to physical form appear as laughable dust clinging to clay.

Through realizing the profound mystery of "ultimate emptiness" (a Buddhist term denoting reality beyond phenomena), practitioners comprehend the empty nature of all things and become free from worldly delusions. Ordinary people chase fame and wealth as treasures, unaware their flesh will return to dust. The truly awakened understand their innate "golden tangerine" (a Neidan/internal alchemy term for primordial Qi) as the priceless jewel that enables transcendence.

The poem repeatedly emphasizes: if all could distance themselves from worldly affairs, none would fall into hell realms. Practitioners who transcend the Three Realms (of desire, form, and formlessness) dwell in immaculate celestial realms. Though appearing muddled like ordinary people, these carefree adepts maintain luminous Shen clarity within their mortal frames.

The relationship between humans and the Dao is mutually fulfilling—when practitioners dispel the "black clouds" of delusory thoughts, their radiant nature illuminates the dusty world. Those who commune with pure winds and bright moonlight could ride phoenixes to Penglai's immortal isles, yet attachment would drag them back to mundanity.

The closing sections employ Buddhist theory of the "four births" (womb-born, egg-born, moisture-born, and transformation-born) to reveal how people become deluded by false bodily forms destined for decay. Indulgence in wine and lust perpetuates karmic downfall, while true practitioners resemble the "bright moon and clear breeze"—seemingly ordinary yet utterly detached. The ignorant cling to family obligations, unaware these bonds burn like scorching flames, ultimately leaving them as cracked clay returning to earth.

Let me now advise the people of this world: you should seek the source of the Great Dao in due time. Even a slight awakening to this truth can scatter attachments like wind dispersing dust.

Those cultivating the path of pure Yang should never cling to turbid Yin, lest it damage their virtuous roots. By refining a body of pure Yang through the Seven Treasures (Taoist cultivation elements including eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) on the path of non-birth, one remains unstained by worldly dust.

Sitting quietly observing the world, I see people chasing blindly like headless flies. Just as fish know only to cling to water, ordinary mortals understand only indulgence in bodily desires.

All sentient beings trapped in samsara carry their own karmic seeds. The hundred-year lifespan decrees death from birth; the Five Aggregates (form, sensation, perception, mental formations, consciousness) will ultimately return to dust.

Ancient sages sat firmly upon their azure oxen (alluding to Laozi's legendary mount), from which even the white ox tradition (Buddhism) derived. Confucians, physicians, and Daoists jointly teach, guiding the ignorant away from worldly attachments.

Among countless beings cycling through life and death, few truly plant virtuous seeds. Those consumed by jealousy, stinginess, and wealth—our pursuits fundamentally differ.

Who recognizes this true cultivator in the marketplace? Practicing wuwei (non-action), he follows nature's course. Free as clouds riding wind or moonbeams, he transcends worldly toil and rebirth's wheel.

People scheme against each other with hidden motives. The Three Luminaries (sun, moon, stars) mirror clearly—your forms will eventually turn to dust.

(From "Expressing My Heart")

Wandering westward to cultivate, I obtained a Dao-heart firm as true gold. Sealed within the Crimson Palace (heart center), my entire mind palace glows with rosy light.

The Golden Elixir (supreme achievement of internal alchemy) manifests instantly—no need for nine-year cyclical refinements. Fellow practitioners who awaken first find their path in jade-green depths.

Alone facing the True Summit (correct path), I behold jasper herbs and gem-like flowers. A single Golden Elixir forms the Great Medicine—no tedious decoctions required.

Profound truth isn't hard to grasp—the key lies in silent realization. Discovering cultivation's essence, directions lose distinction.

Following authentic transmission, I gradually perceive subtle mysteries. Like a turtle diving into jade seas (symbolizing spirit's return), seeing the Vermilion Youth (manifested spirit) atop fiery mountains.

Inner treasures begin radiating light as the Four Symbols (Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise) return to pure Yang. Five-petaled golden lotuses bloom gloriously; countless jade stamens unfold freely.

At the clash of noon (Yang zenith) and midnight (Yin peak), seizing golden essence (primordial qi) reveals cultivation's fruit. Beheading worldly desires, I joyfully offer them to Lord Ding (inner divinity).

Golden lotuses (spirit manifestations) grow naturally—recognized only by awakened adepts. Drawing heaven-earth's pure qi... [text continues]

This scripture contains verses by Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism, originally named Wang Zhe, courtesy name Zhiming, Daoist name Chongyang) expounding on Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation. It primarily describes the methods and states of refining the inner elixir through harmonizing Yin-Yang and gathering refined Qi (vital energy) and Jing (essence).

"The harmonization of two energies forms the embryo" refers to balancing the body's Yin and Yang energies during cultivation to coalesce the nascent form of the inner elixir. "Ten thousand spirits refined and sharp, demon armies vanquished" depicts the advanced stage where righteous energy fills the body, naturally dispelling pathogenic influences. Later passages mention gathering lingzhi mushrooms on Jade Peak Mountain (symbolizing collecting celestial and earthly energies) and comprehending the operations of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) through quiet meditation, thereby transcending physical constraints.

The "four false bodies" represent the temporary physical shell, within which lies the "spiritual truth" of one's original nature. Practitioners dwell alone in mountain retreats, accompanied by clear winds and bright moon, attaining self-realization through inner contemplation.

Recurrent references to "luminous pearls" and the "Golden Elixir" both signify the perfected inner elixir. The crux of cultivation lies in preserving one's true spiritual nature, likened to the jade radiance atop Kunlun Mountain (symbolizing pure Dao-nature). The concluding verses employ the metaphor of an iron ox plowing fields, illustrating how arduous cultivation (with Wuji representing central Earth, symbolizing the Dantian [energy center]) ultimately yields "golden harvest" (representing cultivation achievements).

Wang Chongyang concludes by identifying himself, declaring liberation from worldly bonds—now free to ride the bright moon (symbolizing pure Yang energy) and part the clouds in pursuit of the Dao. Through rich imagery and metaphor, the poem articulates the core Quanzhen teachings of internal alchemy cultivation.

This poetic passage encapsulates the cultivation insights of Wang Chongyang (Daoist name Chongyangzi), patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition, using symbolic imagery to describe the stages of Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. References to the Jade Pool (abode of the Queen Mother of the West, symbolizing the Dantian), white lotus blossoms (representing pure Yang Qi), and the purple-gold elixir (the supreme achievement of internal alchemy) are all specialized terminology within Daoist alchemical practice.

Practitioners need not pursue supernatural arts like soul transference or rebirth—true effort should focus on nurturing pure Yang Qi within the body. When the Dantian generates pristine energy like white lotus flowers, its fragrant resonance (energy perception) ascends directly to the celestial court (the Baihui point at the crown). Genuine cultivation appears simple yet proves profoundly challenging; one must observe the Dao's cyclical patterns to enter the wondrous state of Yin-Yang harmony, forging karmic connections with the Dao amidst refined energetic essences.

In Neidan practice, witnessing the sprouting of "yellow sprouts" (nascent Yang Qi) resembles golden branches and jade leaves blossoming into exquisite flowers. The crystalline tones produced by rising clear Qi (perceptions of internal energy circulation) constitute unique experiences for Daoist cultivators. Through pure cultivation that nurtures the upper, middle, and lower Dantian (the body's three energy centers), one may now attain the profound state of serene stillness. The fruition of practice resembles luminous pearls resting upon mountain peaks, ultimately riding rosy clouds to ascend to the Great Luo Heaven (Daoism's highest celestial realm).

Even if one could capture echoes from the void or grasp foam upon water (metaphors for pursuing external marvels), no amount of cleverness can escape the wheel of rebirth at life's end. Those unwilling to become ordinary spirits after death should resolve to cultivate as transcendent immortals beyond material concerns. This liberated state naturally has its abode, whose mysteries demand deep study.

Examining our primordial nature (yuanchu) reveals it condensed into crystalline purple-gold elixir (the highest form of internal alchemy). This perfected, mysterious elixir-body radiates five-colored auroras (symbolizing the Five Qi converging toward the origin). At advanced stages, practitioners may walk through water without wetting white cloth (mastery of water-nature) or wear blue scarves in fire unburned (perfect fire regulation), fusing the four fundamental energies (metal, wood, water, fire) into unity to attain eternal life.

Only those who understand the art of refining purple-gold elixir will find forging Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) into alchemical pearls no impossible task. When the elixir matures, its radiance bursts forth with ten thousand auroras simultaneously manifesting. As jade nectar (saliva) circulates unnoticed, who perceives the surging of qiongjiang (internal Qi)? Today I alone irrigate the golden flower tree (cultivating essence and energy), filling heaven and earth with fragrance.

Only I can digest the meat of green phoenixes (refining eastern wood Qi), only I absorb the liver of white steeds (refining western metal Qi), merging the two polarities into unity—a sight that inspires awe in distant observers. Suddenly grasping this primordial source, I realize the myriad transformations never truly belonged to me. That luminous true nature manifests clearly, its multicolored brilliance flowing naturally.

When lead and mercury (Yin and Yang energies) meet upon the path to longevity, the firm union of xing (nature) and ming (vitality) brings eternal awakening. Regulating the harmonious interplay of water and fire (Yin-Yang balance), we dispel confusion to illuminate the cultivation path. These realizations inscribed at Ganshui Town—who truly understands Wang the Madman of Zhongnan (Wang Chongyang's self-reference)? Wandering freely through Chang'an streets, gazing idly at the azure sea—even catching whales (taming mental demons) hardly qualifies as true heroism.

Further realization: the bright moon and clear breeze (Yin-Yang energies) circulate internally and externally, emerging from Kunlun's summit (the Baihui point), their radiant illumination naturally revealing the bearing of a great man. This poem dedicated to disciple Qiu Chuji (one of the Seven Quanzhen Masters) contains the master's profound instructions on Neidan's essential principles.

Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism) embedded profound cultivation wisdom in these poems. The first poem uses fishing as a metaphor: golden fish frolic in emerald waves, and though lured by fragrant bait, true freedom comes through patiently reeling in the line. This symbolizes practitioners transcending worldly temptations.

He praises the son of Master Sang, whose accumulated De [Virtue/Power] through generations has nurtured this wise descendant who understands inner joy surpasses external pleasures, finding contentment in moonlit breezes.

Regarding cultivation essentials, he emphasizes resisting worldly desires—following mundane conventions obstructs the Dao. He urges fellow seekers to awaken, for true progress lies in spiritual realization. Dao cultivation isn't child's play; it requires constant purification of the heart-mind to transcend worldly ties—even heaven ages if bound by attachment, let alone mortals.

In poems for students, he addresses them as talented individuals whose opened "Dao eyes" (spiritual insight) should no longer be shackled by fame, but instead join his pursuit of immortality. During alms-seeking in Ninghai, he self-mockingly writes on a paper banner: What skills does this madman possess? No arcane arts—just daily routines of eating and sleeping.

To Dengzhou cultivators, he compares the moon to Dao-nature's radiance and osmanthus fragrance to spiritual attainment. At the Zi-Wu hours [pivotal Yin-Yang transition times], one should release constraints, letting luminous awareness illuminate the Jade Pool [celestial realm].

For disciple Ma Yu, he recalls composing verses in Shaanxi before their first meeting in Ninghai's military camp. Upon learning Ma's name, he reinscribed the poem—speaking of leaving Zhongnan Mountain's bamboo village without familial attachments, journeying afar to guide destined souls toward immortality's gate.

His self-portrait as a skeleton bears these lines: This skull once housed "Madman Wang"—why did it roam east and west? Let bones bleach in wilderness while the true self wanders free beneath the moon.

To Brother Huang, he uses lamp-oiling as a cultivation metaphor: gather wisdom-herbs (Hui grass), diligently tend the heart-nature (adding oil), until the mind-lamp illuminates the Five Gates [senses or aggregates], achieving luminous clarity and spontaneous joy.

For Ma Yu's wife Sun Ergu, he references the "Ten Transformations Through Pear Division" allegory: years ago dividing pears twice for the couple aligned with heavenly timing for natural awakening. Their delayed monastic vows awaited karmic ripening (golden lotus symbolizing spiritual fruition). Later, Ma practiced with him for over a year before Sun also took monastic vows.

Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism) uses plain language in these poems to expound the essence of spiritual cultivation:

The first poem compares worldly family life to being ordered about by two mothers-in-law, suggesting liberation from domestic constraints as the path beyond suffering. When his disciple Ma Yu followed him in practice, Wang gifted a poem saying one year of cultivation is like a fish taking the hook, destined to ascend with him to immortal realms.

The second poem's "Bell of Impermanence" serves as a metaphor for life's brevity - its chimes remind listeners of mortality, as sunset tolls inspire silent contemplation of life's transience.

When Mr. Feng sought guidance, Wang Chongyang revealed how a century passes like fleeting light, urging him to "turn his head to shore" to see through illusions, stressing that only by shattering attachments could one awaken to the Dao.

"Perfect Circle" symbolizes the consummate state of cultivation. Wang described this realm as self-realized, like the moon atop Mount Kunlun that enables communion with heaven's breeze and moonlight.

He satirizes weavers lost in worldly toil, contrasting them with carefree adepts; describing snowflakes, he notes their purity from worldly disputes mirrors the cultivator's unstained heart.

Bamboo verses reveal its moonlit emptiness as embodying cultivation's truth; osmanthus poems declare celestial seeds shouldn't take root in dust but belong in Penglai's immortal isles.

Final acrostic poems dedicate:

• To Xü Shoudao of Laizhou: urging him to guard his inner treasure
• To Master Ren: praising his skill in awakening beings with Buddhist Dharma
• To Feng the Fifth: advising peaceful practice without leaving home
• To Scholar Lai: recognizing his jade-like inner refinement

(Note: Poetic terms include "Charming Maiden and Infant" [neidan (internal alchemy] terminology], "Jade Capital Mountain" and "Jade Pool" [Daoist paradises], with "Six-ounce Robe" denoting immortal feathered garments.)

These poems from the Chongyang Quanzhen Collection reveal the daily exchanges between Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen school of Daoism) and his fellow practitioners, blending spiritual insights with the joys of ordinary life. Here’s a plain-language interpretation:

The first poem discusses alchemical cultivation. Amid the deep mountain mists, refining the elixir (Chenxuan refers to the alchemical substance), one who grasps its profound principles may ascend directly to the Great Canopy Heaven (the highest Daoist celestial realm). This was written for fellow practitioner Zhang Qutong, teasing that despite his name "Qutong" (meaning "winding yet penetrating"), he had yet to attain the cool clarity of enlightenment, still persevering in the ascetic path of purity and poverty.

The second poem depicts visiting Mount Li in search of the Dao. Frequently journeying to seek immortals there, golden blossoms (possibly symbolizing the Golden Elixir) guard the distant peaks. When divine beings descend, it feels like stepping into a realm of white clouds. Later, while admiring spring flowers in an official garden, the poet notices extraordinary "scholar's blossoms" (perhaps a metaphor for stages of cultivation).

The poem dedicated to Master Du emphasizes uprightness and clarity in practice. The heart should resemble a pure spring, discerning light and dark (the silver toad symbolizes the bright moon). Bitter effort in cultivation will eventually reveal true sincerity. The latter section describes scenes of flute-playing and dancing, where golden blossoms (the Elixir) shine undimmed. When women sing, one shouldn’t cling to appearances—clapping and laughter embody genuine joy.

The verse about exchanging tea with Fourth Brother Jia of the teahouse says: Tea made from fresh buds of the sacred tree carries a unique flavor, bringing delight akin to attaining the Dao. Another poem compares an oil lamp’s wick-trimming stick to the essence of a hundred herbs, capable of parting darkness to reveal spiritual light.

Inviting guests to enjoy the Qingming Festival, he writes: Seize this splendid feast to gather friends, cleansing hearts with sweet spring wine (a celestial brew), for this season is perfect to meet the immortals. The cautionary poem for Fourth Brother Shi warns: The true Dao isn’t cloyingly sweet—bitter toil tempers the self. Who can perceive the flames within the heart? It urges him not to stray onto misguided paths.

The poem about the "Hall of Timeliness" states: Regular visits here free the mind from distraction. Each verse mentions the vanity of worldly markets—only in this hall (a place of practice) can one glimpse the true Dao. The reply to Master Chi uses archery as a metaphor: Action and non-action (Wuwei) flow like water naturally; moral cultivation lies in self-awareness.

Offering cakes to a fellow practitioner, he notes: Hemp cakes made from new wheat carry the vitality of heaven and earth. Beyond mere sustenance, their flavor is naturally sweet like ritual jade. Serving tea to Fourth Brother Shi, he remarks: The "golden barrier" (perhaps teaware) doesn’t distinguish right and wrong—when the heart turns toward rosy clouds (the realm of cultivation), it draws celestial gifts from beyond the skies.

The final poem, "Learning to Strike the Bell," advises: Weighty words matter less than heart-to-heart connection—don’t grow lax. First subdue the mind-monkey (restless thoughts), and joy will arise like striking a golden bell (perhaps symbolizing sudden enlightenment). These poems frequently employ alchemical imagery like the Elixir and golden blossoms, infusing everyday acts—tea-drinking, flower-viewing—with the deeper significance of spiritual practice.

These poems from the Chongyang Quanzhen Collection reveal Wang Chongyang's (founder of Quanzhen Daoism) wisdom in guiding disciples and expounding cultivation principles, using everyday objects as metaphors for spiritual truths:

When seeing the cloud-board (a monastery timekeeping instrument) at Jingye Temple, he described its striking sound as dharma rain nourishing hearts, yet few could comprehend the mystical state where iron gives birth to clouds. He advised disciple Cui Yanheng to emulate autumn leaves moving without wind—remaining serene without competing with sun and moon.

Inscribing poetry at Han Maoxian's herb shop, he portrayed cultivators as innocent as noon-hour children, letting bodily desires turn cold as dead ashes. Upon realizing the true Dao, even a crude medicine cabinet becomes Penglai paradise. The wooden fish (Buddhist percussion instrument) taught him purity matters most—its hollow resonance mirroring the "holding pearls" state in Neidan (internal alchemy) practice.

That ordinary cooling fan transformed into an instrument for delivering beings—silk surface dispelling heat, bamboo handle untouched by temperature, subtly conveying transcendence beyond hot/cold attachments. Public bathhouses inspired his teaching: "Pure mind creates cool realms," urging disciples to carve cultivation grottoes from bathing pools.

Falling petals revealed Wang San (Ma Yu's Daoist name) had renounced worldly life while elites still drunkenly dreamed of spring—only cultivators grasp the true meaning of "withering flowers." Poems for fellow practitioners emphasized "water's gold" (a Neidan term for primordial Qi) resides within, never requiring external search.

Most delightful is his awakening of Ma Yu (foremost of the Quanzhen Seven): when Wang prepared for hundred-day seclusion to transform him, Ma asked "Aren't you cold, Master?" The reply—"Wang-wind (Dao-Qi) knows no chill"—hinted at the Dao's eternal warmth. The concluding Reflections distills cultivation essentials: treasures gathered in three Dantian (energy centers), five energies blossoming as lotus, achieving luminous nature-awareness. Wealth should follow destiny's flow—lest sudden impermanence brings vain regret.

This passage primarily contains several poems and cultivation essentials by Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism, Daoist name Chongyangzi), which use symbolic language to expound the principles of Neidan (internal alchemy) practice.

The first poem, "Biting Teeth," employs the golden rooster (symbolizing the sun and Yang Qi) and the jade rabbit (symbolizing the moon and Yin Jing [essence]) as metaphors, illustrating that cultivation requires harmonizing Yin and Yang. When Yang Qi is strong during the day, one must nourish Yin, just as the jade rabbit in the moon needs sustenance.

The subsequent five-character poems are all instructions for his disciple Ma Yu (one of the Seven Masters of Quanzhen). "Ma meets, Zhe loves" refers to the spiritual connection between master and disciple; "dividing Zi and Wu, dawn of spring and autumn" speaks of seizing the Zi and Wu hours (Zi hour when Yin Qi peaks, Wu hour when Yang Qi is strongest) for cultivation; "lead and mercury, forming completion" uses alchemical terms to symbolize the unification of Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) (lead representing original essence, mercury representing original spirit).

Lines like "hammer the golden tiger, saw the wooden ox" employ imagery of the tiger (symbolizing metal and the lungs) and ox (symbolizing wood and the liver) to explain the need to harmonize the Qi of the five organs through cultivation. "Warmly opening the hexagram, seeing through destiny" refers to comprehending celestial mysteries through seated meditation and stillness.

The final acrostic poem covertly outlines the steps of cultivation: first, finding true fellow practitioners ("calling kindred spirits likewise"), relinquishing worldly desires ("extinguishing smoke to seek coins"), practicing in pure surroundings ("the earth grows a yellow vessel" refers to Dantian [energy center] cultivation), and ultimately attaining transcendent states ("light ascends to heaven"). "Pulse infant in wheat fields arranged" points to cultivating the body's innate primordial Qi (the infant), while "inviting wind and moon, five perfected" subtly indicates the fulfillment of the Five Phases' Qi.

These poems all revolve around the Quanzhen school's core philosophy of "dual cultivation of nature and life," using abundant metaphors to elucidate the methods and realms of Neidan practice.