《徐仙翰藻》Vol. 8

The eighth volume of Xu Xian's Literary Elegance contains several lyric poems imbued with Daoist wisdom, showcasing the leisurely life and philosophical reflections of cultivation practitioners.

The first poem, Immortal by the River, depicts the joy of family harmony: members appreciating calligraphy, paintings, zither, and chess, with children and grandchildren playing around their knees, sharing fine wine to toast longevity. It mentions the wondrous methods of cultivating the Yellow Court Scripture (an important Daoist classic), suggesting that through inner cultivation of the Dantian (the core energy center in Daoist practice), one may transcend like the immortals of Penglai. The closing imagery of "name inscribed on golden rolls" and "sleeves scented by imperial incense" subtly alludes to the state of achieving Daoist realization.

The second poem, Years Like Autumn, begins with the scenic beauty of Mount Ao (a legendary abode of immortals), recounting the story of a talented youth. Using auspicious symbols like the qilin and yuèzhuó (mythical auspicious birds), it celebrates the protagonist's early success in imperial examinations while his parents remain healthy. The conclusion employs two allusions—the filial piety of Lao Laizi entertaining his parents in colorful robes, and the Queen Mother's jade pool banquet (a Daoist immortal gathering)—painting a heartwarming scene of family celebration.

The third poem, Guiding Longing, dedicated to Elder Shen Jian, praises the numinous energy of Mount Ao's pristine landscape. It advises: "If inquiring about future prospects, don't cling to fame and wealth; just nurture kindness and accumulate hidden virtue (merit through unnoticed good deeds)." The reference to "planting locust trees foretelling high office" (an ancient omen of nobility) predicts the recipient's impending greatness.

The fourth poem depicts an elegant life with friend Zhou Tong: sitting opposite each other in the hall, hand in hand admiring the moon while composing poetry. Even autumn dew's chill cannot dampen their refined pleasures, enhanced by yellow chrysanthemums by the fence whose late fragrance symbolizes enduring virtue—embodying a transcendent attitude toward worldly matters.

The fifth poem, Water Clock, portrays a serene household: lotus in the courtyard pond, fragrant herbs by the desk, leaning on an armrest to gaze at the moon until dawn unnoticed. The magpie's morning announcement heralds fair weather ahead, brimming with Daoist appreciation for following nature's rhythms.

The sixth poem, Silk-Washing Stream, advises withdrawing from worldly disputes to cultivate in mountains. Using imagery of "three paths grown wild" (hermit dwellings) and "befriending chrysanthemums and pines," it expresses the carefree joy of reclusion deep in white clouds.

The final poem, Joy of Meeting, describes spring's beauty: after rain, myriad flowers like brocade, willow catkins like silk. Beaded curtains roll up in high towers as last year's swallows return gracefully. Through natural imagery, it metaphorically conveys the practitioner's detached mind beyond mundane concerns.

These poems blend Daoist cultivation philosophy with literati elegance, revealing the wisdom of adepts maintaining transcendence within worldly life.

The poem "For Guo Yongweng" depicts spring scenery in February: light clouds and heavy rain, a hundred flowers in bloom, travelers coming and going east and west. The phrase "oxen and horses face different winds" metaphorically illustrates how life paths diverge—though mountains and waters remain verdant, the road ahead twists like narrow sheep-gut paths. It concludes with "five fives mark the future" (a Daoist term denoting the perfect state of Yin-Yang balance) expressing auspicious wishes for the friend's journey ahead.

"To Zheng Ruxian" begins with orioles and swallows dancing in spring, describing shifting weather between cloudy and clear. Peach blossoms smile without words, while at dusk birds return to their nests as the sun sets behind western hills. The closing line "reunion moon on the fifteenth" (referring to the full moon on the lunar calendar) subtly symbolizes life's consummate fulfillment.

"For Guo Yili of Tianyi Temple" portrays a hermit's life: wooden gate latched alone, transcending worldly concerns. Comparing himself to "clouds drifting aimlessly from mountain clefts," the poet reveals an apparent artlessness that nonetheless knows to return to the origin. "Neither mist nor fog" describes a cultivator's state beyond material form, while "a petal of heart-incense" (metaphor for devout practice) conveys yearning for spiritual cultivation in sacred mountains.

"Answering Monk Derun of Heshan on Karmic Affinity" responds to Buddhist inquiry through Chan-style dialogue. "Flying monk's staff" and "passing on the robe" (symbols of monastic pilgrimage and transmission) denote practice methods, with "extinguished heart-fire" representing shattered attachments. The final rhetorical question—"what is the asshole cave?" (classic Chan koan)—embodies wordless Zen insight.

"To Monk Shijing of Yueshan Temple" praises this master's authentic transmission of the Linji school (a Chan lineage), deeply grasping the teaching to "strike the bell when heard" (direct pointing to the mind's essence). Dropping "tongs and hammers" (debate tools) signifies transcending verbal disputes to directly apprehend Dharma's truth.

Another poem to the tune "Spring in Jade Tower" uses the "seamless pagoda" (symbolizing flawless, leak-free Dharma) to describe exquisite Chan teachings. "Deshan's shout and stick strike" (famous Chan pedagogical methods) emphasize direct mind-pointing, while the closing lines stress repeated contemplation in practice.

"Mending Palaces and Tailoring Robes" employs metaphors of repairing palace walls and sewing garments: steadfast determination can pierce stone, while collective effort achieves great deeds. Embroidering splendid robes requires countless stitches—an implicit analogy that profound cultivation demands rigorous effort, with conspicuous attainment emerging from deep practice.

The final poem to the tune "Joyful Orioles Moving" reveals through daily labor—"mending east walls, patching west partitions"—that spiritual practice demands perseverance. Just as meticulously sewn silk garments command higher worth, a cultivator's dedicated efforts will ultimately yield corresponding realization and renown.

The Xu Xian Han Zao contains several poetic exchanges written in different lyric meters (cipai), covering themes of spiritual cultivation, painting, and journeys.

The first piece, Silk-Washing Stream: For Painter Cai, states: True deities manifest not in incense and candles but in sincere devotion within the heart. Worldly affairs shift like clouds and rain, yet ancient trees sprout anew in spring. It praises Cai’s transcendent skill in capturing the vital spirit (shen) of his subjects, akin to the Jin-dynasty master Gu Kaizhi (styled Changkang)—seemingly foolish yet profoundly wise.

The second, Spring in the Painted Hall, continues extolling the artist: Clear breeze and bright moon need no purchase; his brush flows with natural qi-resonance. Painting with immortal-like freedom, he serendipitously depicts deities and ghosts in myriad forms. The vivid interplay of ink tones draws universal acclaim for his mastery.

The third, Western Peace: Seeing Off a Townsman Bound for Hunan, is a farewell verse: A true man’s ambition spans the realm—riding his white steed through flowered shade. Sharing a parting cup with his beloved, he repacks his gear. Carrying tokens and musical instruments, he sings Yue ballads. The poet urges him to emulate Su Qin’s political triumphs, returning someday in brocade robes with golden seal.

The fourth, Buddhist Dancers: For Guo Dongtang of Tongcheng, concerns cultivation: Tongcheng holds sacred sites (Jetavana trees); robed and alms bowl in hand, he practices diligently. Sudden awakening reveals the level path ahead—distance matters not. With bodhicitta awakened, perfected beings (zhenren) will safeguard his virtuous vows.

The fifth, Returning from Afar: Exhorting Painter Cai, uses celestial imagery: Behold the glazed halls of Penglai Isle, their walls white as silk. So too should painting preserve this purity, untainted by worldly dust.

The sixth, Moon Over West River: Reply to Lin Junju’s Inquiry, discusses fame: Speak not of reclusive sages—literary achievement has its own gateways. Descendants inherit their fortune, like the Wang family’s Three Scholartrees portending official honors. Should one place among the Three Champions, their name will echo through eternity.

The seventh, Moon Over West River: For a Dragon-Boat Craftsman, celebrates artisanship: Mastering the art of dragon-prowed vessels, he dares display his craft beneath the Mid-Autumn moon.

By the Heavenly River's shore, all praise me for establishing a millennium's fame and worth, collectively extolling this era's most distinguished figures. Presenting you with brocade as a ceremonial head-wrap (ancient silk gift) conveys deeper sentiment than pig's trotters and coarse wine. This love poem, amid the fragrant festivities of the third lunar month, carries the scent of fine silks—a heart intoxicated with longing, stirring youthful passions. Why not chant along with the rhythm? Do not squander this glorious springtime. In this bustling flower market, having already reached the pinnacle of floral appreciation, there's no need to retreat beyond the gates.

For the Imperial Commissioner of Min County (modern Fujian): You are a luminary among stars, a virtuous official of the Seven Min (ancient Fujian), whose brush can craft achievements as enduring as the Spring and Autumn Annals. In those days, the elders of Jian and Shao (likely Jianning and Shaowu regions) joyfully pleaded for your stay—truly, your governance was as clear as water, offering shade like the benevolent Gantang tree (symbol of virtuous rule). Now we hear of your benevolent policies in Nan'an (Fujian), praised by the people. As you arrive in this county of blooming splendor, Magistrate Pan, cherish these fine moments without hesitation. We revel in pleasure, frolicking through the streets and markets. They say the moonlit scenery by the courier station is exquisite—have you seen it? Here lies a thousand stretches of embroidered riverbanks, their renown reaching even the Imperial Capital.

In reply to Lin Tingyu (to the tune of "Mountain Flowers"): Matters of past and future lives are beyond conjecture—why not shave one's head and learn from the Tathagata (Buddhist practice)? But where has the Tathagata gone? The karmic bonds of Tiantai Mountain and Dayu Ridge remain unfulfilled—why sweep dust from the mirror stand (place of cultivation)? Better to ascend the lofty mountain peak and spend one's days in spiritual practice.

For Five Colleagues: Last night, snow fell upon the riverside village; now southern branches of plum blossoms bloom. This news heralds spring's arrival—snow and plum blossoms appearing together, what a splendid sight! Breaking a plum sprig to face the snow, yet words fail—plum and snow mirror each other like a painted scroll, with moonlight gracing the tower. The essence of plum, snow, and bright moon defies comprehension—better to savor it with two or three cups of wine.