No More Learning

When he emerged from the hill he took to his boat and retraced his journey noting every turning. When he returned home he told about his adventure. He was sent back with others to show
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? ? ? them the route but it was lost. And no one ever found their way there again.
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? ? ,3? ? ? 0? ? (699-759 AD) Letter to Pi? ei Ti
This month the weather has been bright and clear, and I could have crossed the mountains. But I was reluctant to trouble you, knowing you were deep in the Classics. So I wandered around the mountain, stayed at Kan-pi? ei Temple, ate with the monks, and wandered home again. Then I went north over the Y ? an-pa, under a clear moon. At night I climbed Hua-tzu Hill, and watched the moonlight on the Yang Riveri? s ripples. Far-off, lights on the cold mountain glittered then vanished. A dog in the deep lanes barked like a leopard. The pounding of grain in the night sounded between strokes of a distant bell. Now I am sitting alone listening to the silence. I think a lot about the old days, when we made poems together, climbing the steep tracks by clear streams. We must wait till the trees and grass grow green again, and, idling in spring hills, we can see fish leap in the light, the gulls soar, the white dew on green moss. At dawn
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? ? ? we will hear the birds call in the fields. It is not long till then, when you could come wandering with me. If I did not know your natural sensibility, I would hold back from making even this indirect invitation. I speak from a deep impulse, but it is not pressing.
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? Green-Water Stream
To reach the Yellow-Flowered River
Go by the Green-Water Stream.
A thousand twists and turns of mountain But the way there cani? t be many miles. The sound of water falling over rocks And deep colour among pines.
Gently green floating water-plants. Bright the mirrored reeds and rushes.
I am a lover of true quietness.
Watching the flow of clear water
I dream of sitting on the uncarved rock casting a line on the endless stream.
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? In Answer
In these quiet years growing calmer, Lacking knowledge of the worldi? s affairs, I stop worrying how things will turn out. My quiet mind makes no subtle plans. Returning to the woods I love
A pine-tree breeze rustles in my robes. Mountain moonlight fills the lutei? s bowl, Shows up what learning I have left.
If you ask what makes us rich or poor Hear the Fishermani? s voice float to shore.
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? Peach Blossom Spring
A fisherman floated on, enjoying Spring. The shores, he found, were covered in Peach
Blossom.
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,
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? ? 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?
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? 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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? 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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? 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?
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? 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.
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? Words for the Mica Screen
Unfold this screen Against the light, Show hills and streams Nature painted.
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? 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.
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? 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.
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? 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.
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? 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.