Hsu Yun ( Zen Poetry)

Ch'an Master Hsu (Xu) Yun was born on 26th April 1840 at Chuanchowfu in Fukien province.When he was 11, his grandmother died and monks were invited to perform Buddhist rites. This was the first time he saw monks or sacred objects and it made him very happy. At 19, together with his cousin Fu Kuo, he fled to Kushan monastery at Fuchow where his head was shaved, and here he followed the Master Miao Lien and received full ordination. At 31, he went to Wenchow where he met a monk who urged him to call on the old master Yung Ching who was well-versed in both teaching and Ch'an transmission. At 43, he took stock of his achievements which were not complete and remembering how he had sacrificed his love for his parents in order to join the Sangha, he was ashamed that he had attained so little. In order to repay his debt of gratitude to them, he decided on a long pilgrimage from P'u T'o to the Five-Peaked Mountain (the bodhimandala of Manjusri) in the North-west to pray for their rebirth in the Pure Land. From the thatched temple of Fa Hua on P'u T'o island, he set out with incense sticks in his hands, prostrating himself every three paces until he reached his destination.In his 54th and 55th years, the master stayed on a mountain to read the Tripitaka. At 56, he was invited to the famous monastery of Gao Ming at Yangehow to assist its abbot in supervising the twelve weeks of Ch'an meditation.He said in his autobiography: "In the purity of my singleness of mind, I forgot all about my body. Twenty days later my illness vanished completely. From that moment, with all my thoughts entirely wiped out, my practice took effect throughout the day and night. My steps were as swift as if I was flying in the air. One evening, after meditation, I opened my eyes and suddenly saw I was in brightness similar to broad daylight in which I could see everything within and without the monastery ..." Knowing that he had only achieved an advanced but not the final stage, he refused to cling to it, resolving to wipe out the final hindrance caused by his last subtle attachment to ego and Dharma. One night when the meditation ended after six successive incense sticks had been burned, a monk came to fill his cup of tea. As the boiling water splashed over his hand, he dropped the cup, which fell to the ground and broke with a sound which was heard by his pure mind[1] that was now able to perform its non-discriminating function of perceiving externals. Instantly he cut off his last link with samsara and rejoiced at his realization of the Absolute. He wrote in his autobiography: "I was like someone awaking from a dream" which meant that he had leaped over the worldly stream to the other shore of Bodhi. He then chanted the following two gathas:

1 - A cup fell to the ground
With a sound clearly heard.
As space was pulverised,
The mad mind came to a stop.

2 - When the hand released its hold, the cup fell and was shattered,
'Tis hard to talk when the family breaks up or someone dies.
Spring comes with fragrant flowers exuberating everywhere;
Mountains, rivers and the great earth are only the Tathagata.


After his own Enlightenment, the master immediately began his Bodhisattva work of guiding others out of the sea of suffering. His first act was to pray to Shakyamuni Buddha for the liberation of his mother whom he had never seen. Previously he had taken the vow to go to the monastery of Emperor Asoka at Ningpo to pay reverence to the Buddha Relics and to burn off there one of his fingers as his offering to the Buddha for her liberation.



 

Bitter Rain -

Bitter rain soaks the pile of kindling twigs.

The night so cold and still the lamp flame hardly moves.

Clouds condense and drench our stone walled hut.

Broken rushes clog the reed gate's way.

The stream gurgles, a torrent in its bed.

That's all we hear. Only rarely, comes a human voice...

But oh, how priceless is this peace of mind that fills us

As we sit on our heels and put on another Chan monk's robe!


The Barking Dog -

We went up across the ridge for the fun of it.

Didn't need to pack any more wine.

On the precipice, flowers opened, smiling.

By the river, willows grew bright.

In the drizzling rain the village smoke congealed, concealed.

The wind was slight and the grass was cool.

There in the woods' underbrush, startled,

We suddenly heard a dog bark.

It wanted us to know the Master was aware.



Heart Of The Buddha -

No need to chase back and forth like the waves.

The same water which ebbs is the same water that flows.

No point turning back to get water

When it's flowing around you in all directions

The heart of the Buddha and the people of the world...

Where is there any difference?


Going Beyond Desire -

Striving to leave the wilderness

You become part of what's wild.

Striving to cease grasping

Is, itself, grasping.

So how do you gain control and get beyond desire?

Open those eyes... the ones that were born in your own skull.

An Exquisite Truth -

This is an exquisite truth:

Saints and ordinary folks are the same from the start.

Inquiring about a difference

Is like asking to borrow string when you've got a good strong rope.

Every Dharma is known in the heart.

After a rain, the mountain colors intensify.

Once you become familiar with the design of fate's illusions

Your ink-well will contain all of life and death.


Searching For The Dharma -

You've traveled up ten thousand steps in search of the Dharma.

So many long days in the archives, copying, copying.

The gravity of the Tang and the profundity of the Sung make heavy baggage.

Here! I've picked you a bunch of wildflowers.

Their meaning is the same

but they're much easier to carry.


Six Poems on Living in the Mountains

1.
I've got a little picture in my mind of a clean and quiet place.
Everywhere you look it's completely natural.
The house is made of plaited rushes.
There's a good half-acre for growing tubers and flowers.

Beautiful birds perch on cliffs
That encase a few clouds that hang around green peaks.
The world's red dust won't be able to get up here.
Simple elegance is better than saintliness or spirituality.

2.
Can joy be found in the mountains?
Let me tell you. There's more joy in the mountains
Than anywhere else.

Pines and bamboos perform sacred chants.
The songs of Sheng flutes are played by birds.
In the trees, monkeys climb for fruit.
In the ponds, ducks cavort with lotus lilies.

This escape from the ordinary world
Month by month and year by year
Eliminates the hindrances to Enlightenment.

3.
Don't try to stand tall in the courtyards of fame.
In the mountains such dreams fade away.
Your body stands on its own when it's up with the clouds.
Your heart pulls away from worldly attachments.

The moon that I love clears a path through the pines
And guides a stream right to the bamboo gate.
Naturally, this is nothing short of amazing.
How could you disparage it... or ever tire of the sight?

4.
In the mountains there's nothing at all which prohibits
Dreams of cooking millet during afternoon naps.
If you're lazy by nature, you won't brood about problems.
You'll make light of the body and won't fear the cold.

Chrysanthemums grow by the three ancient paths.
A few planted plum trees make the whole yard fragrant.
Engagements are blessedly short.
Leisure is blessedly long.

5.
Just wake up from an afternoon nap in a grass hut.
Drag a walking stick and let it bounce free and easy.
Lean on a rock and watch the clouds rise.
Listen to the pine saplings and hear the sound of waves.

When the forest is dense, no guests pass by.
When the roads are dangerous, they're only used for gathering firewood.
The place is so pristine and cool
How could it fail to quench my mind's furnace of cares?

6.
People complain of a hard life in the mountains.
I don't think it's much different from the hardships of anywhere else.
A clay oven burning birch twigs,
A stone cauldron boiling wild sprouts.

It seems that you've only just picked the chrysanthemums
That grow in the three months of autumn
When it's time to view the flowers of March.

Pity more the moon that night after night
Is forced to entertain society.