《重陽全真集》Vol. 9

The "Song of Clarity" section expounds the lineage system of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoist school. Zhongli Quan (Zhengyangzi) of the Han dynasty serves as the founding patriarch, while Lü Dongbin (Chunyangzi) of the Tang dynasty is the master, and Liu Haichan of the Yan state the senior disciple. Wang Chongyang (Chongyangzi) of Zhongnan Mountain gathered under their tutelage as a disciple. As disciples, one must devoutly serve these three masters to comprehend heavenly mysteries. In action, one summons the majestic presence of deities from all directions; in stillness, jade light radiates throughout the body. Upon attaining the carefree realm of liberation, the qi of clarity and emptiness flows unimpeded. This karmic bond of cultivation has existed since antiquity, transcending temporal constraints without obstruction—those who achieve this become immortals. True profundity lies not in forced pursuit; those who understand essence need neither deliberate practice nor empty talk. Why discuss abstruse principles when maintaining clarity? What need has the enlightened to search for secret formulas? Cultivation neither diminishes nor increases—it neither arises nor ceases, without fluctuation, eternally accompanied by clear winds and bright moon, befriending rosy clouds and white mists.

The "Song of the Bamboo Staff" depicts a staff named "Wu Zhu" (Non-Attachment). Each segment of this staff glows with radiance—hollow-hearted yet upright, containing within it miraculous elixirs. Though motionless, it embodies natural ease, adapting to circumstances. The poet dreams of four dragons dancing in accordance with the staff's guidance, silver light bursting from its tip, finally emitting a luminous pearl that dazzles brilliantly. While carrying brightly colored objects may bring joy, white clouds never betray their covenant with crimson dawns—a metaphor reminding practitioners to maintain their fundamental heart-mind.

The "Song of Profundity" explores perspectives on life and death. Humans cling obsessively to life, unaware that only after death comes true home. Genuine cultivators don't covet the physical form—hair, eyebrows, tongue, teeth, hands, feet, head or face hold no importance. The body is compared to intestines that transform water and rice, yet these too are ultimately illusory. One must see through the falsity of this corporeal shell to recognize the true nature of primordial qi (vital energy). Only by cultivating a body of pure yang can one be worthy of the name Chongyangzi (Wang Chongyang's Daoist title). Here the "two substances" refer to yin and yang qi, while "true primordiality" denotes the body's original energy—harmonizing yin and yang enables return to the source.

Though the original text of the "Song of Origin" isn't provided, its title suggests exploration of the fundamental principle of "yuan" (origin). The Quanzhen school advocates returning to primordial qi through neidan (internal alchemy) practice, continuing the consistent themes of transcending physical form and harmonizing yin-yang from previous poems. Wang Chongyang employs vernacular ballad forms, embedding essential neidan techniques within everyday imagery.

Though parents gave me physical birth, what truly matters is awakening beyond worldly attachments. We are often trapped by our physical forms, clinging to mundane relationships with children and spouses—unaware these are actually karmic adversaries. It would be better to sever such entanglements from the outset.

Having awakened, I seek to recover the original purity of my true nature. Only by opening the true gate of cultivation can one comprehend the source of the Dao (the Way). Maintaining clear awareness, we ultimately return to the Purple Mansion (the upper Dantian or celestial realm in Daoism). Those external symbols of cultivation—phoenixes, turtle-dragons, white tigers—pale in comparison to wielding the axe of wisdom to cleave Mount Kunlun (a metaphor for breaking through spiritual obstacles) and obtain the inner treasure.

Cultivation requires mastering the pivotal transformations of Yin-Yang, as subtle as drawing fire from ice. Only those with karmic affinity can grasp this eternal truth. The path to immortality is profound and long, but with guidance from an enlightened teacher, one may ascend directly to the Great Luo Heaven (the highest Daoist celestial realm). There, a single Golden Elixir (the fruit of Neidan/internal alchemy practice) brings eternal radiance, needing no external adornments of incense or ritual.

True cultivation transcends emotions of joy and anger, reaching the realm of emptiness. The ineffable Dao reveals itself in this "Song of Awakening." This wondrous method has existed since the dawn of creation, yet only now finds its transmission.

The "Song of Clarity" reminds us: Do not be bound by the physical form (the Four Elements: earth, water, fire, wind), but pursue genuine and complete cultivation. Mistakenly taking illusory karma as real, one must remain pure as a lotus. Cultivation first requires completing the Ninefold Revolving Elixir (the nine stages of Neidan practice) to attain perfection.

This scripture elucidates the essential teachings of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoist cultivation and offers admonitions for practitioners. The first section depicts the vision of Neidan (internal alchemy) practice: adepts must nurture the three Dantian (energy centers) – upper, middle, and lower – with the majestic power of a golden-maned lion. During cultivation, one must seize the crucial hours of Wu (noon) and Zi (midnight), observing the transformations of Yin-Yang. External appearances matter little; what truly counts is inner refinement, requiring constant adjustment of body and mind to return to primordial purity.

The text describes how practitioners will traverse the realm of "Supreme Crimson Ancestor" (referring to primordial Qi), ultimately perceiving the "Millet-Sized Pearl" (a metaphor for the internal elixir). Through cultivation, the seven orifices become unobstructed and the six senses clarified, until one witnesses their true nature upon the Jeweled Terrace. After ingesting the spiritual elixir, body and mind radiate luminosity, pure as jade blossoms atop Mount Kunlun – this constitutes the covenant with the Dao.

The latter portion presents admonitory verses: genuine practice must stem from the heart, while those ignorant of true cultivation labor in vain. Mere scripture recitation, incense burning, and ceremonial prostrations constitute superficial effort that only breeds vexation. Rather than discussing others' practice, one should diligently cultivate their own. Improper methods invite malevolent influences instead of progress. Maintain purity of heart, undistracted by external temptations.

The scripture identifies romantic scenery, wine, lust, wealth, and emotional agitation as obstacles to practice. Dawn and dusk meditation proves futile without proper method. Authentic cultivation lies in natural serenity, compassionate intent, and maintaining a placid mind. Control the "Tiger and Dragon" (metaphors for passions) and prevent the "Infant and Maiden" (symbolizing the spirit) from scattering. Ultimately, renounce the five desires, becoming as unmoved as carved wood while apprehending true nature to return to original purity. Spiritual refinement resembles smelting gold or tempering wood – requiring repeated forging through dedicated practice.

Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen tradition) employs vivid metaphors in these poems to expound the essence of Daoist cultivation. He describes refining the Golden Elixir (Jindan, a Neidan term referring to primordial Qi attained through practice) as tenderly nurturing a celestial herb, requiring repeated watering with spring water. This luminous plant, more radiant than fine jade, must eventually be returned to the immortal realms, personified as "A'jiao" - the practitioner's affectionate name for their spiritual achievement.

He recounts his life journey: cherished by parents in youth, he initially sought to fulfill filial duties but realized the impossibility of repaying such profound nurturing. Now embracing poverty and carefreeness, he naps at will by daylight, living with unconstrained ease. Meanwhile, those foolishly entangled in wine, lust, wealth, and anger (the four desires obstructing cultivation) waste days in petty scheming - far inferior to the wind's untethered freedom. He yearns to wander green mountains, ultimately escaping worldly shackles for Penglai's three isles and the Ten Continent Paradises (legendary Daoist realms). There, his physical form will fade, leaving only a moon-pure spirit (Shen) to endure eternally.

In "The Song of Secrets," he uses the "medicine spoon" (Daogui, ancient measuring tool symbolizing essential methods) as metaphor: this arcane approach eludes most, remaining elusive even when glimpsed. It purifies body-mind like myriad blossoms unfolding, radiating Five Phase hues (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), its inner glow surpassing violet-gold elixirs (highest Neidan attainment). Timeless and beyond Yin-Yang, it points directly to the Dao's origin.

"Song of Steadfastness" emphasizes rooting practice like trees: lush branches never sway with winds, resilient verdure withstands frost. True cultivation lies in grasping ancient wisdom (exemplified in gong'an cases) and establishing one's own practice, not relying on Waidan elixirs or Fulu talismans. Through sustained refinement, vital energies (fluids and Qi) naturally strengthen and harmonize.

This passage vividly depicts the imagery and methods of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice, employing rich symbolic language to metaphorize the cultivation process.

Practitioners must relinquish external distractions, sever worldly thoughts, and focus on inner refinement ("burning inner incense"). The phrase "a maiden casting gold into the mine" symbolizes true Yin entering the Dantian (energy center), while "a youth entering the jade gourd" represents true Yang returning to the sea of Qi. Within the body ("the mine," "the gourd"), cultivators nurture vital essences ("precious trees," "mystic sprouts"), harmonizing the dual forces of Yin and Yang ("twin heads," "paired forms") to achieve the state of Three Blossoms Gathering at the Crown ("threefold splendor") and Six Roots Purified ("sixfold purity").

The body's parts must cooperate during practice: fingers form mudras ("able to strike drums"), and the seven apertures remain unobstructed ("joyfully playing flutes"). Inner fire ("blazing flames") and true water ("swelling waves") intermingle, cleansing worldly defilements through the path of right awareness ("the luminous path of perfect completion"), ultimately transcending mundane existence ("emerging from worldly clamor") to enter a realm of profound mystery and unfettered freedom.

The "Song of Unfettered Freedom" emphasizes severing worldly attachments ("parting from wife and children, cutting off affection"), even past familial bonds. The cultivator ("Wind-Harm," Wang Chongyang's self-reference) does not defy cosmic laws ("never obscuring the Three Luminaries"), having already turned back from the cycles of hell ("the envoys of Fengdu have turned their heads"). Words align with deeds, and the path to Penglai, the immortal isle, is the true way to longevity.

The "Song of Profound Mystery" uses acrobatic metaphors for cultivation: walking a tightrope ("a pole ten thousand zhang high") atop perilous peaks, where the performer ("the infant," symbolizing the primordial spirit) displays sublime skill amid clear winds and bright moonlight. "Agate pills" and "coral cups" represent the refinement of Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit)—a single misstep demands restarting. Finally, parting the silver waves reveals the true self ("a golden turtle in a jade pot"), with inner Qi glowing like amber and luminous pearls. At the culmination ("seizing the luminous pearl"), no longer bound by worldly constraints ("not left beneath the Black Dragon's chin"), one ascends straight to the clouds, entering the eternal realm of Wuwei (non-action).

The "Song of Realization" continues with cultivation essentials: employing proper methods ("issuing excellent plans") and preparing meticulously ("spreading broad displays"). "The maiden of two eights" and "the lord of six parts" symbolize the harmonization of Yin and Yang, achieving freedom through self-cultivation ("drinking and trading for oneself"). Practice involves opening the Governing and Conception Vessels ("breaking through the Yang path," "passing the Yin gate"), ascending mountains for jade and diving seas for pearls—progressing step by step. Ultimately, one attains the perfected state ("jade blossoms crowning the head," "immortal flowers filling the feet"), merging with the Dao ("riding the void") to reap the fruits of eternal life.

This scripture contains three main sections, discussing cultivation essentials, insights shared with fellow practitioners, and the symbolic meaning of iron-cauldron alchemy.

The first section explains that the foundation of cultivation lies in regulating breath and nurturing Qi (vital energy). Through proper breathing techniques (inhaling and exhaling in perfect cycles), one returns to the original source of life (primordial true awakening). When cultivation reaches a state of clarity, the inner mind becomes as luminous as five-colored radiance, merging with immortal imagery such as golden flowers and red immortal shoes (symbolizing transcendence). The practitioner ultimately rises above the mundane world, journeying with immortals to the Three Isles and Ten Continents (legendary Daoist paradises), achieving eternal freedom.

The second section is a poetic dedication to a fellow Daoist. It praises Zou Zhengdao of Ninghai (modern-day Muping, Shandong), recognizing his profound realization of life’s origin and his ability to traverse Penglai, the mythical island. This Penglai is not a physical place but symbolizes the mystical state attained through cultivation. The poem mentions celestial youths offering wine of immortality and luminous pearls—images representing the wondrous experiences of advanced practice. It concludes by encouraging the fellow practitioner to persist, ultimately reaching the state of Wuwei (non-action) in the Great Brahma Heaven (the highest Daoist celestial realm).

The third section, The Song of the Iron Cauldron, uses the iron cauldron as a metaphor for internal alchemy (Neidan). The cauldron symbolizes the practitioner’s body, forged according to specific principles (golden guidelines). By refining the "jade nectar" (internal fluids) and balancing fire and water (refining through heat and clarifying through water), the Golden Elixir (Jindan) is formed within. The cauldron’s ringing sound symbolizes awakening the deluded, while its inner and outer radiance represents the fullness of Jing (essence) and Qi. References to tigers and dragons, lead and mercury—alchemical terms for Yin-Yang energies and refining materials—illustrate the process. The final lines clarify that true alchemy does not rely on external substances but on harmonizing one’s own Qi, Jing, and Shen (spirit).

Taken as a whole, these verses vividly convey the core teachings of Quanzhen Daoist internal alchemy: through breath regulation, balancing fire and water, and refining the self, one forges the Golden Elixir within, ultimately attaining the immortal realm of eternal transcendence.

Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] tradition of Daoism) employs the imagery of alchemical refinement in an iron vessel throughout this set of "Moon Over West River" lyrics as a metaphor for Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation. The iron vessel symbolizes the human body, while the smelting process represents ascetic practice. References to "last night," "today," and "tomorrow" signify the necessity of continuous cultivation, adjusting the "fire times" (practice rhythm) according to seasonal nodes, relying on terrestrial Qi to nourish the nascent "jade mushroom" (embryonic form of the internal elixir) within.

Though the interior of the iron vessel appears turbid and obscure, it silently communes with wind and moon (symbolizing the harmonization of Yin-Yang during practice). This empty vessel, through simultaneous internal and external refinement, ultimately forges an indestructible golden body that ascends directly to the Great Canopy Heaven (highest celestial realm in Daoism).

Subsequent stanzas detail essential cultivation principles: using pure silver as fuel represents immaculate practice methods; "a thousand turns of flowing water" denotes repeated tempering; the intersection of Li (Fire) and Kan (Water) symbolizes Yin-Yang equilibrium; auspicious clouds crowning the head mark successful attainment; the pairing of Wood and Metal (harmonized liver and lungs) brings psychosomatic bliss; diligent polishing of the spiritual terrace (mental purification) yields carefree liberation; ultimately, white lotuses bloom (internal elixir completion) as "three chariots" (essence, Qi, and spirit) unite—the Golden Elixir's consummation resembles ascending immortal isles amid celestial celebrations.

Through the sustained metaphor of iron-vessel alchemy, the entire composition systematically unfolds the Quanzhen Neidan path from foundation to perfection, emphasizing perseverance and Yin-Yang harmony as cardinal principles.

This scripture contains two parts: the first half consists of enlightenment poetry by Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen tradition), while the second half presents his autobiographical "Song of Realizing Truth."

The opening section employs metaphorical language to describe spiritual cultivation: Ridiculous are those false practitioners like barren women playing flutes—vainly discussing watering plants on mountaintops or foolishly speaking of burning fire beneath the sea. Only when encountering the true wind of "perfect brightness illuminating rightly" (referring to innate luminous nature) can the clear Qi of purity permeate one's entire being. Tasting spiritual mushrooms beneath the moonlight of Western River, one gradually comprehends the true flavor. When this numinous true nature is attained, even the cleverest may laugh—genuine practice requires neither incense burning nor scripture chanting, only finding this direct path to immediate awakening. Today the profound mystery is revealed, clear as the moon reflected in Western River, expressed through Daoism's authentic family tradition.

The middle passage depicts the transcendent state after cultivation achievement: Behold the vast azure sky—today my heart feels refreshed and joyful, perfectly demonstrating my lifelong cultivation methods. Soaring into cloud banks, riding auspicious phoenixes through Western River's moonlight, ascending directly to the palace of emptiness (indicating the liberated state of Dao-realization).

The latter "Song of Realizing Truth" recounts Wang's spiritual journey: He gained awareness only at nine years old. Though ancestors lived seventy or eighty years, in his thirties he remained addicted to pleasure—daily drunk and bullying others, neglecting family duties and self-cultivation, squandering his inheritance. At forty-eight, still competitive, sudden awakening came. Disregarding mockery, he thoroughly examined himself. Abandoning wife and children, cleansing his face to restart life, he felt no sorrow over lost wealth, refusing to slave for descendants. At fifty-two, acutely sensing time's urgency, he contemplated life's impermanence—losing human form would mean eternal ruin. He admonished: hear the true Dao before aging, practice diligently while the body remains strong.

This text vividly portrays Wang's transformation from wastrel to cultivator, emphasizing direct mind-pointing practice, transcending formal constraints, and the crucial importance of timely awakening.

This passage comprises cultivation verses by Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism) and his disciple Tan Chuduan, expounding the true meaning of Daoist practice and the practitioner's way of life.

The first section depicts the liberated state of wandering cultivation: carefree as the clear breeze and bright moon, transcending worldly concerns. "Roaming clouds and waters" refers to the lifestyle of leaving worldly dust to wander freely. Terms like "infant-maiden" (representing Yin-Yang) and "dragon-tiger" (symbolizing water-fire) are Neidan (internal alchemy) terminology, but Wang emphasizes that true cultivation lies in maintaining inner purity rather than obsessively pursuing these techniques.

The second section, "Eulogy for a Disciple," addresses Tan Chuduan. Immortal Tan (Tan Chuduan) resolutely abandoned family life to follow his master in cultivation, earning Wang's admiration for his determination. It states that Daoist practice is neither difficult nor easy—one must find leisure within hardship and endure tempering within leisure. It highlights the ascetic life of wearing coarse hemp and begging on streets, while the "three fellow practitioners" (referring to disciples Ma Yu, Tan Chuduan and Qiu Chuji) should unite in virtue like brothers.

The third section, "Pavilion of Liberation Eulogy," humorously states true liberation means seeing through the emptiness of the five aggregates (form, sensation, perception, mental formations, consciousness). Even a wise man like Vimalakirti (renowned Buddhist layman) still pays homage, while this "madman" (Wang's self-reference) achieves greater transcendence. It concludes mentioning the "Dragon Flower Assembly" (Daoist reference to Maitreya's future enlightenment gathering).

The fourth section, "Four Fruits Eulogy," begins each line with "fruit," advising practitioners to follow karmic opportunities—meeting enlightened teachers ("Xiyi" refers to Patriarch Chen Tuan) and reuniting with cultivation companions from past lives.

The fifth section, "Eulogy Dispelling Delusion," employs the dialectics of "being" and "non-being" to expound Daoist emptiness philosophy: their mutual generation reveals the need to see through appearances.

The sixth section, "Sword Eulogy," compares the true Dao to a treasured sword whose power ordinary people cannot recognize—only in cultivators' hands does its radiance manifest. "Three peaks" likely indicates the three Dantian (upper/middle/lower energy centers), while "crimson glow" describes the sword's aura like rosy clouds.

The seventh section, "Eulogy Transmitting Spirit," states ordinary people's true nature remains obscured until self-awakened. The entire scripture embodies Quanzhen's philosophy of "dual cultivation of nature and life" (Xingming Shuangxiu), emphasizing Daoist practice within daily life.

The human body is a temporary coalescence of four elements: fire, wind, earth, and water. Yang qi (vital energy) forms the bones, while yin qi constitutes the skin. Eyes, ears, nose, and mouth are positioned at the front, each clinging to attachments and vying for dominance, using this mountain of flesh to assert itself. Now awakened to the profound truth, I realize the original essence requires no external form. Clinging to these burdens is like casting one's shen (spirit) into a pit—one must see clearly where one comes from and where one goes. In truth, without even moving a step, simply turning back brings enlightenment.

This illusory, composite body is truly empty—why bother adorning it further? Fellow seekers, do not let those who understand see you like this, lest you invite ridicule.

A poem for fellow Daoist friends:

The waxing and waning of nature is inherently tranquil,

No need to speak of the Golden Elixir or immortals.

Nurture qi and shen to find deeper peace—

Ten thousand taels of gold can’t buy serene sleep at sunrise.

Crimson flames blaze between three peaks,

White lotus blooms with five tender petals.

See through the illusory work of cultivation,

And from here, recognize the profound truth.

On sleep during the four key hours:

• Zi hour (11 PM–1 AM): Sleep with dignity, like the bright moon crossing the celestial court, illuminating the darkness of midnight.
• Mao hour (5–7 AM): Sleep in emptiness and clarity, preserving the luminous nature of the awakened mind.
• Wu hour (11 AM–1 PM): Sleep with natural fragrance, piercing the clear sky to reveal the True One (Zhenyi).
• You hour (5–7 PM): Sleep in tranquility, as if drinking the waters of the western river, nurturing the blossoming of exquisite jade flowers.

A poem urging a friend to enter the Dao:

If you wish to cultivate with me,

Sever all worldly thoughts.

Hold nothing in the heart,

Release all mundane affairs.

Hungry? Eat coarse or fine grains alike.

Cold? Simple cloth will suffice.

Sleep often, free of sorrow,

Walk without fear.

Speak no gossip,

Shirk no hardship.

Maintain an equal mind,

Help those who suffer.

Continuously refine the false self,

Preserve inner purity always.

Until past karma dissolves,

Abandon all attachments.

When cultivation bears fruit,

A true master will come to guide you.

Four prohibitions:

• Do not crave others’ respect.
• Do not let others mock or toy with you.
• Do not let thoughts gallop like wild horses.
• Do not let the mind leap like a restless monkey.

Four keys to attainment:

• To gain, release attachment.
• To understand, embrace stillness.
• To achieve, follow the natural flow.
• To be free, see through illusion.

This passage elucidates the essential teachings of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Practitioners must harmonize the two Qi energies of Yin and Yang (represented by lead and mercury respectively). When the Yin energy fully transforms into Yang energy, one can crystallize the Golden Elixir (Jindan) - the highest attainment in Daoist cultivation. The key lies in regulating breath, nurturing the Three Treasures (Jing, Qi, and Shen - the fundamental energies of human existence), and maintaining physical-mental equilibrium.

The Golden Elixir cultivation progresses through several stages: First, practitioners must achieve a state of serene emptiness through seated meditation and breath regulation, akin to cultivating jade flowers before golden stamens can blossom (a metaphor for foundational practice). As cultivation bears fruit, the body naturally emits fragrant Qi, radiating luminosity like a clear sky. After undergoing the Nine Cycles and Seven Returns (jiuzhuan qihuan - the cyclical refinement process), the Great Elixir crystallizes, enabling the practitioner to undergo spiritual metamorphosis and attain celestial ascension.

The subsequent poems are works by Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen tradition, Daoist name Chongyangzi) exhorting spiritual practice. He advocated establishing Golden Lotus Societies (cultivation communities), urging disciples to persevere in practice without abandoning the path midway. The verses emphasize transcending dualistic distinctions between "being" and "non-being": neither clinging to existence nor becoming lost in emptiness, but finding balance between these states to cultivate the golden lotus (symbolizing spiritual fruition).

The concluding "Farewell Ode" presents Wang Chongyang's self-portrait. Calling himself "Chongyangzi of the Earth's Lungs" and known as "Wang the Harmful Wind" (a self-deprecating nickname meaning "mad Daoist"), the poem expresses his transcendence of life-and-death and unity with nature: arriving in harmony with sun and moon, departing to wander freely; keeping company with clouds and streams, dwelling in intimacy with the void. Most precious is preserving the "one numinous true nature" (the authentic Dao-nature), never compromising with worldly conventions.

The entire text embodies the Quanzhen doctrine of "dual cultivation of nature and life" (xingming shuangxiu), equally valuing physical cultivation (life work) and spiritual refinement (nature work), ultimately achieving complete union with the Dao.