No More Learning

Watched reddening trees, uncertain where he was. Seeing no one reached green water springs.
There a way led through the hill.
Twisting, turning to a vast plain.
Distant trees rose to the clouds.
Houses stretched among bamboo and flowers. Woodmen had names from times of Chou, Clothes they wore were those of Chi? in,
Once had lived near Wu-ling River,
Now they lived outside the world.
Bright moon in pines. By their doors peace. Sunrise. From clouds the wild birds call.
Amazed, they want to see this stranger,
Invite him; ask questions of his country.
At first light they sweep flowers from the gate.
At dusk fishermen, woodmen ride the stream. They had sought refuge there from the world,
242
? ? Became Immortals, never returned.
Who in those hills can know the world of men, Who, gazing out, sees only clouds and hills? He forgot Paradise is hard to find.
His spirit turned again to his own home. Leaving those hidden streams and mountains, Thought he could return when he wished, Knew the way. How could he go wrong?
Who can know how hills and valleys alter?
He only knew the deep ways he wandered.
How many green streams in those cloudy woods? When Spring comes a myriad Peach-filled rivers, Who knows which one might lead to Paradise?
243
? For MI? ng Hao-jan
Never to see that true friend again. Han River gleams wide to the east.
I might ask where his islandi? s found. River and hills. Empty is his place.
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? 244
? A Reply
I have a place on the Chungnan slopes. Sitting there you can see the Mountains. No one there, no guests, the gate is closed. No plans all day, just time and silence. Nothing stops you gazing and dreaming. Why not come and try to find me there?
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? 245
? Poem of Farewell
Morning rain on Weii? s city Falls in the soft dust.
Green. The courtyard willows. Green leaves. The newest.
But you must drink deeper. Again, one more cup?
Out west where you go What friendship there?
? 246
? Mourning Yin Yao
We follow you home to the Mountain. Back again through oak and green pine. Beyond the White Clouds you stay forever. Only this stream runs down to Humankind.
? 247
? Words for the Mica Screen
Unfold this screen Against the light, Show hills and streams Nature painted.
? 248
? Chungnan
Middle-aged now, following the Way. Settled at evening near the Chungnan slopes. Delight, and I wander off by myself Searching for what I need to see alone.
I climb up to the roots of the streams,
Sit and watch the White Clouds pass,
Meet the old man of the woods,
Talk and laugh, forget to go home.
? 249
? Pa Pass
At daybreak I head for Pa Pass.
Spring and I together leave Chi? ang-an.
A woman washes clothes in bright water. The birds at dawn sing in the light.
River country. Boats here are markets.
Mountain bridges cling to treetops. Climbing up, a hundred villages.
In the far sun the Two Rivers.
People here speak another language,
But the birdsongi? s just like my countryi? s. Understanding the depths of landscape, Even here I am never lonely.
? 250
? Visiting the Temple
Not knowing where the temple was,
I travelled miles on hills of cloud, Through ancient pines, no good tracks, Towards bell sounds across deep gorges. Streami? s noise where rocks are high. Cool sun in fir branches.
Sit at night by the mountain pool, Seeking to reign in the Dragon.
? 251
? Going to the Temple The Ten Stages of Perception
Up through bamboo. Leave the First Stage: Pass Illusion: Go by Lotus Mountain: Through the Pass, therei? s the whole of Chi? u: Beyond the woods see the distant plain: Cross-legged on a mat of grass:
Hear scriptures in the high pine:
Reach the Void: through Clouds of Law: Meditate to achieve Nirvana.
? ? 252
? Meditation
Thin cloud. Light rain.
Far cell. Closed to noon.
Sit. Look. Green moss Becomes one with your clothes.
? 253
? The Recluse
Every way the emerald treesi? shadows. Each dayi? s green moss free of dust. Wild-haired, stretch-legged, he sits
By the high pine with half-open eyes.
? 254
? From the Mountain
Here there are others like me Sitting alone in meditation.
Look out here from the city.
All you will see is White Clouds.
? 255
? Night Hills
Rain gone. Hills are void.
Night air. Autumn now.
Bright moon in the pines.
Clear stream on the stones.
A bamboo noise n? who heads home? The lotus stirs n? who sets out? Spring scents always go.
But you n? you must always stay.
? 256
? Living by the River
Back again to this place of refuge.
No more entering the city.
Lean against a tree by the door,
Watch the distant villages below.
Green stems shining in the water,
White birds flying in the hills,
Thinking how that Man from Y ? ling Gave up the world to refresh the garden.
? 257
? Leaving Wang River
Finally decide to depart,
Sadly let go of ancient pines.
Who can see the last of Blue Hills?
Or bear to leave the Green-Water Stream?
? 258
? Passing the Temple
Tonight he walks with his light stick, Stops by the Tiger Streami? s source, Asks us to listen to the mountain sound, Goes home again by clear waters. Endless blossoms in the stillness. Bird-cries deep in the valleys.
Now hei? ll sit in empty hills.
In pine-winds, feel the touch of autumn.
? 259
? Hill Road
Ching Riveri? s rocks show white. Cold air. The sparse red leaves. Clear of rain these sky-tracks, Clothes soaked in the blue.
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? 260
? Drifting
September skies are clear to the distance Clearer still so far from human kind.
A heron by the pool, a mountain cloud, Either of them makes the mind content. The faintest ripples still and eveningi? s here. The moon turns silver and I dream,
Tonight leaning on a single oar, Drifting without thought of going home.
? 261
? Living in the Hills
Alone, at peace, I close the door.
Shut out the skyi? s evening flame.
Cranes settle in the pines.
No one comes to try my gate.
Bamboo tender with new growth.
Red lotus shedding its old sleeves.
A light glows down by the ford.
Gathering water-chestnuts. They come home.
? 262
? The Stone Ledge
On the stone ledge above the water,
Where willow leaf-tips drink the wine.
If you say the spring breeze has no meaning, Why does it bring me all these falling flowers?