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CHAPTER 1

Part One Chinese Poems of Enlightenment and Death

NOTE: Most of the following Chinese masters and laymen, sixty in all, flourished during the Southern Sung dynasty (1127–1279), but their exact dates, with some exceptions, are missing in biographical records of Chinese Zenists. Among those who can be dated, Mumon-Ekai (Rinzai sectarian and author of Mumonkan: The Gateless Barrier, one of the most celebrated collections of disciplinary Zen questions and answers), Tendo-Nyojo (instructor in Soto Zen of Dogen, who, returning home from the Continent, founded the Japanese Soto sect) and Daie-Soko (Rinzai Zen leader with a large following) stand out as brilliant figures in Chinese Zen history.

Enlightenment

Ox bridle tossed, vows taken,
I'm robed and shaven clean.
You ask why Bodhidharma came east —
Staff thrust out, I hum like mad.

REITO

Twenty years a pilgrim,
Footing east, west.
Back in Seiken,
I've not moved an inch.

SEIKEN-CHIJU

Once the goal's reached,
Have a good laugh.
Shaven, you're handsomer —
Those useless eyebrows!

KISHU

The old master held up fluff And blew from his palm,
Revealing the Source itself.
Look where clouds hide the peak.

KAIGEN

The mountain — Buddha's body.
The torrent — his preaching.
Last night, eighty-four thousand poems.
How, how make them understand?

LAYMAN SOTOBA (1036–1101)

How long the tree's been barren.
At its tip long ropes of cloud.
Since I smashed the mud-bull's horns,
The stream's flowed backwards.

HOGE

Joshu's "Oak in the courtyard" —
Nobody's grasped its roots.
Turned from sweet plum trees,
They pick sour pears on the hill.

EIAN

On the rocky slope, blossoming Plums — from where?
Once he saw them, Reiun Danced all the way to Sandai.

HOIN

Joshu's "Oak in the courtyard"
Handed down, yet lost in leafy branch They miss the root. Disciple Kaku shouts —
"Joshu never said a thing!"

MONJU-SHINDO

No dust speck anywhere.
What's old? new?
At home on my blue mountain,
I want for nothing.

SHOFU

Over the peak spreading clouds,
At its source the river's cold.
If you would see,
Climb the mountain top.

HAKUYO

Loving old priceless things,
I've scorned those seeking Truth outside themselves:
Here, on the tip of the nose.

LAYMAN MAKUSHO

Traceless, no more need to hide.
Now the old mirror Reflects everything — autumn light Moistened by faint mist.

SUIAN

No mind, no Buddhas, no live beings,
Blue peaks ring Five Phoenix Tower.
In late spring light I throw this body Off — fox leaps into the lion's den.

CHIFU

Sailing on Men River, I heard A call: how deep, how ordinary.
Seeking what I'd lost,
I found a host of saints.

SOAN

In serving, serve,
In fighting, kill.
Tokusan, Ganto —
A million-mile bar!

JINZU

Years keeping that in mind,
Vainly questioning masters.
A herald cries, "He's coming!"
Liver, gall burst wide.

ANBUN

Seamless —
Touched, it glitters.
Why spread such nets For sparrows?

GOJUSAN

Clear, clear — clearest!
I ran barefoot east and west.
Now more lucid than the moon,
The eighty-four thousand Dharma gates!

MOAN

I set down the emerald lamp,
Take it up — exhaustless.
Once lit,
A sister is a sister.

GEKKUTSU-SEI

Not falling, not ignoring —
A pair of mandarin ducks Alighting, bobbing, anywhere.

NAN-O-MYO

How vast karma,
Yet what's there To cling to? Last night,
Turning, I was blinded By a ray of light.

SEIGEN-YUIIN

A deafening peal,
A thief escaped My body. What Have I learnt?
The Lord of Nothingness Has a dark face.

LAYMAN YAKUSAI

A thunderbolt — eyes wide,
All living things bend low.
Mount Sumeru dances All the way to Sandai.

MUMON-EKAI (1183–1260)

Where is the dragon's cave?
Dozing this morn in Lord Sunyata's Palace, I heard the warbler.
Spring breeze shakes loose The blossoms of the peach.

KANZAN-SHIGYO

No mind, no Buddha, no being.
Bones of the Void are scattered.
Why should the golden lion Seek out the fox's lair?

TEKKAN

Earth, river, mountain:
Snowflakes melt in air.
How could I have doubted?
Where's north? south? east? west?

DANGAI

Joshu's word — Nothingness.
In spring blossom everywhere.
Now insight's mine,
Another dust-speck in the eye!

KUCHU

Joshu exclaimed, "Dog's no Buddha,"
All things beg for life.
Even the half-dead snake Stuffed in the basket.
Giving to haves, taking from Have-nots — never enough.

ICHIGEN

Searching Him took My strength.
One night I bent My pointing finger —
Never such a moon!

KEPPO

Death

The fiery unicorn snapped Its golden chain, moon-hare Flung wide the silver gate:
Welcome, over Mount Shozan,
The midnight moon.

DAICHU

Seventy-six: done With this life —
I've not sought heaven,
Don't fear hell.
I'll lay these bones Beyond the Triple World,
Unenthralled, unperturbed.

FUYO-DOKAI (1042–1117)

A rootless tree,
Yellow leaves scattering Beyond the blue —
Cloudless, stainless.

SOZAN-KYONIN (9th century?)

Sixty-five years,
Fifty-seven a monk.
Disciples, why ask Where I'm going,
Nostrils to earth?

UNPO BUN-ETSU

The word at last,
No more dependencies:
Cold moon in pond,
Smoke over the ferry.

KOKO

Sixty-six years Piling sins,
I leap into hell —
Above life and death.

TENDO-NYOJO (1163–1228)

Sky's not high, earth not solid —
Try to see! Look,
This day, December 25 th,
The Northern Dipper blazes south.

SEIHO

Way's not for the blind:
Groping, they might as well Seek in the Dipper.
Old for Zen combat, only The plough will comprehend:
I'll climb Mount Kongo, a pine.

TOZAN-GYOSO

"No mind, no Buddha,"
Disciples prattle.
"Got skin, got marrow."
Well, goodbye to that.
Beyond, peak glows on peak!

SHOZAN

Nothing longed for,
Nothing cast off.
In the great Void —
A, B, C, D.
One blunder, another,
Everyone seeking Western Paradise!

LAYMAN YOKETSU

Wino, always stumbling,
Yet in drinking I show most discretion.
Where to wind up,
Sober, this evening?
Somewhere on the river bank I'll find dawn's moon.

HOMYO

Sky-piercing sword, gleaming cold,
Cuts Demons, Buddhas, Patriarchs,
Then moonlit, stirred by wind, sinks In its jeweled scabbard. Iron bulls Along the river bank plunge everywhere.

ZUIAN

Talking: seven steps, eight falls.
Silent: tripping once, twice.
Zenists everywhere,
Sit, let the mind be.

SHISHIN-GOSHIN (?–1339)

High wind, cold moon,
Long stream through the sky.
Beyond the gate, no shadow —
Four sides, eight directions.

SHOKAKU

Today Rakan, riding an iron horse Backwards, climbs Mount Sumeru.
Galloping through Void,
I'll leave no trace.

RAKAN-KEINAN

This fellow, perfect in men's eyes,
Utters the same thing over And over, fifty-six years. Now Something new — spear trees, sword hills!

IKUO-JOUN

No more head shaving,
Washing flesh.
Pile high the wood,
Set it aflame!

CHITSU

Forty-nine years —
What a din!
Eighty-seven springs —
What pleasures!
What's having? not having?
Dreaming, dreaming.
Plum trees snow-laden,
I'm ready!

UNCHO

Life's as we Find it — death too.
A parting poem?
Why insist?

DAIE-SOKO (1089–1163)

Iron tree blooms,
Cock lays an egg.
Over seventy, I cut The palanquin ropes.
WAKUAN-SHITAI (1108–69)

Seventy-two years I've hung The karma mirror.
Smashing through,
I'm on the Path!

IKUO-MYOTAN

All things come apart.
No saintly sign In these poor bones —
Strew their ashes Onto Yangtze waves.
The First Principle, everywhere.

DAISEN

Eighty-three years — at last No longer muzzled.
The oak's a Buddha,
Void's pulled down.

KYURIN-EKI

Finally out of reach —
No bondage, no dependency.
How calm the ocean,
Towering the Void.

TESSHO

Fifty-three years This clumsy ox has managed,
Now barefoot stalks The Void — what nonsense!

SEKISHITSU-SOEI

Coming, I clench my hands,
Going, spread them wide.
Once through the barrier,
A lotus stem will Drag an elephant!

DANKYO-MYORIN (13th century)

Seventy-eight awkward years —
A clownish lot. The mud-bull Trots the ocean floor.
In June, snowflakes.

ICHIGEN

How Zenists carry on About the birthless!
What madness makes me toll,
At noon, the midnight bell?

GEKKO-SOJO

This body won't pollute The flowering slope —
Don't turn that earth.
What need a samadhi flame?
Heaped firewood's good enough.

SEKIOKU-SEIKYO

Mount Sumeru — my fist!
Ocean — my mouth!
Mountain crumbles, ocean dries.
Where does the jeweled hare leap,
Where reels the golden crow?

KIKO

Part Two Poems of the Japanese Zen Masters

The Western Patriarch's doctrine is transplanted! I fish by moonlight, till on cloudy days. Clean, clean! Not a worldly mote falls with the snow As, cross-legged in this mountain hut, I sit the evening through.

DOGEN (1200–1253)

Coming, going, the waterfowl Leaves not a trace,
Nor does it need a guide.

DOGEN

The all-meaning circle:
No in, no out;
No light, no shade.
Here all saints are born.

SHOICHI (1202–80)

Clear in the blue, the moon!
Icy water to the horizon,
Defining high, low. Startled,
The dragon uncoils about the billows.

RYUZAN (1274–1358)

Invaluable is the Soto Way —
Why be discipline's slave?
Snapping the golden chain,
Step boldly towards the sunset!

GASAN (1275–1365)

Many times the mountains have turned from green to yellow —
So much for the capricious earth!
Dust in your eyes, the triple world is narrow;
Nothing on the mind, your chair is wide enough.

MUSO (1275–1351)

Vainly I dug for a perfect sky,
Piling a barrier all around.
Then one black night, lifting a heavy Tile, I crushed the skeletal void!

MUSO

At last I've broken Unmon's barrier!
There's exit everywhere — east, west; north, south.
In at morning, out at evening; neither host nor guest.
My every step stirs up a little breeze.

DAITO (1282–1337)

To slice through Buddhas, Patriarchs I grip my polished sword.
One glance at my mastery,
The void bites its tusks!

DAITO

I moved across the Dharma-nature,
The earth was buoyant, marvelous.
That very night, whipping its iron horse,
The void galloped into Cloud Street.

GETSUDO (1285–1361)

Thoughts arise endlessly,
There's a span to every life.
One hundred years, thirty-six thousand days:
The spring through, the butterfly dreams.

DAICHI (1290–1366)

Refreshing, the wind against the waterfall As the moon hangs, a lantern, on the peak And the bamboo window glows. In old age mountains Are more beautiful than ever. My resolve:
That these bones be purified by rocks.

JAKUSHITSU (1290–1367)

He's part of all, yet all's transcended;
Solely for convenience he's known as master.
Who dares say he's found him?
In this rackety town I train disciples.

CHIKUSEN (1292–1348)

All night long I think of life's labyrinth —
Impossible to visit the tenants of Hades.
The authoritarian attempt to palm a horse off as deer Was laughable. As was the thrust at The charmed life of the dragon. Contemptible!
It's in the dark that eyes probe earth and heaven,
In dream that the tormented seek present, past.
Enough! The mountain moon fills the window.
The lonely fall through, the garden rang with cricket song.

BETSUGEN (1294–1364)

Beyond the snatch of time, my daily life.
I scorn the State, unhitch the universe.
Denying cause and effect, like the noon sky,
My up-down career: Buddhas nor Patriarchs can convey it.

JUO (1296–1380)

Magnificent! Magnificent!
No one knows the final word.
The ocean bed's aflame,
Out of the void leap wooden lambs.

FUMON (1302–69)

For all these years, my certain Zen:
Neither I nor the world exist.
The sutras neat within the box,
My cane hooked upon the wall,
I lie at peace in moonlight Or, hearing water plashing on the rock,
Sit up: none can purchase pleasure such as this:
Spangled across the step-moss, a million coins!

SHUTAKU (1308–88)

Mind set free in the Dharma-realm,
I sit at the moon-filled window Watching the mountains with my ears,
Hearing the stream with open eyes.
Each molecule preaches perfect law,
Each moment chants true sutra:
The most fleeting thought is timeless,
A single hair's enough to stir the sea.

SHUTAKU

Why bother with the world?
Let others go gray, bustling east, west.
In this mountain temple, lying half-in,
Half-out, I'm removed from joy and sorrow.

RYUSHU (1308–88)

After the spring song, "Vast emptiness, no holiness,"
Comes the song of snow-wind along the Yangtze River.
Late at night I too play the noteless flute of Shorin,
Piercing the mountains with its sound, the river.

SHUNOKU (1311–88)

How heal the phantom body of its phantom ill,
Which started in the womb?
Unless you pluck a medicine from the Bodhi-tree,
The sense of karma will destroy you.

TESSHU (14th century)

Not a mote in the light above,
Soul itself cannot offer such a view.
Though dawn's not come, the cock is calling:
The phoenix, flower in beak, welcomes spring.

TSUGEN (1322–91)

Men without rank, excrement spatulas,
Come together, perfuming earth and heaven.
How well they get along in temple calm As, minds empty, they reach for light.

GUCHU (1323–1409)

Life: a cloud crossing the peak.
Death: the moon sailing.
Oh just once admit the truth Of noumenon, phenomenon,
And you're a donkey-tying pole!

MUMON (1323–90)

Inscription over His Door
He who holds that nothingness Is formless, flowers are visions,
Let him enter boldly!

GIDO (1325–88)

Riding backwards this wooden horse,
I'm about to gallop through the void.
Would you seek to trace me?
Ha! Try catching the tempest in a net.

KUKOKU (1328–1407)

The void has collapsed upon the earth,
Stars, burning, shoot across Iron Mountain.
Turning a somersault, I brush past.

ZEKKAI (1336–1405)

The myriad differences resolved by sitting, all doors opened.
In this still place I follow my nature, be what it may.
From the one hundred flowers I wander freely,
The soaring cliff — my hall of meditation
(With the moon emerged, my mind is motionless).
Sitting on this frosty seat, no further dream of fame.
The forest, the mountain follow their ancient ways,
And through the long spring day, not even the shadow of a bird.

REIZAN (?–1411)

Defying the power of speech, the Law Commission on Mount
  Vulture!
Kasyapa's smile told the beyond-telling.
What's there to reveal in that perfect all-suchness?
Look up! the moon-mind glows unsmirched.

MYOYU (1333–93)

My eyes eavesdrop on their lashes!
I'm finished with the ordinary!
What use has halter, bridle To one who's shaken off contrivance?

EICHU (1340–1416)

Last year in a lovely temple in Hirosawa,
This year among the rocks of Nikko,
All's the same to me:
Clapping hands, the peaks roar at the blue!

HAKUGAI (1343–1414)

Splitting the void in half,
Making smithereens of earth,
I watch inching towards The river, the cloud-drawn moon.

NANEI (1363–1438)

Serving the Shogun in the capital,
Stained by worldly dust, I found no peace.
Now, straw hat pulled down, I follow the river:
How fresh the sight of gulls across the sand!

KODO (1370–1433)

For seventy-two years I've kept the ox well under.
Today, the plum in bloom again,
I let him wander in the snow.

BOKUO (1384–1455)

After ten years in the red-light district,
How solitary a spell in the mountains.
I can see clouds a thousand miles away,
Hear ancient music in the pines.

IKKYU (1394–1481)

Void in Form
When, just as they are,
White dewdrops gather On scarlet maple leaves,
Regard the scarlet beads!

IKKYU

Form in Void
The tree is stripped,
All color, fragrance gone,
Yet already on the bough,
Uncaring spring!

IKKYU

Taking hold, one's astray in nothingness;
Letting go, the Origin's regained.
Since the music stopped, no shadow's touched My door: again the village moon's above the river.

KOKAI (1403–69)

Only genuine awakening results in that.
Only fools seek sainthood for reward.
Lifting a hand, the stone lantern announces daybreak.
Smiling, the void nods its enormous head.

NENSHO (1409–82)

Unaware of illusion or enlightenment,
From this stone I watch the mountains, hear the stream.
A three-day rain has cleansed the earth,
A roar of thunder split the sky.
Ever serene are linked phenomena,
And though the mind's alert, it's but an ash heap.
Chilly, bleak as the dusk I move through,
I return, a basket brimmed with peaches on my arm.

GENKO (?–1505)

On Joshu's Nothingness
Earth, mountains, rivers — hidden in this nothingness.
In this nothingness — earth, mountains, rivers revealed.
Spring flowers, winter snows:
There's no being nor non-being, nor denial itself.

SAISHO (?–1506)

Why, it's but the motion of eyes and brows!
And here I've been seeking it far and wide.
Awakened at last, I find the moon Above the pines, the river surging high.

YUISHUN (?–1544)

Though night after night The moon is stream-reflected,
Try to find where it has touched,
Point even to a shadow.

TAKUAN (1573–1645)

It's not nature that upholds utility.
Look! even the rootless tree is swelled With bloom, not red nor white, but lovely all the same.
How many can boast so fine a springtide?

GUDO (1579–1661)

Whirled by the three passions, one's eyes go blind;
Closed to the world of things, they see again.
In this way I live; straw-hatted, staff in hand,
I move illimitably, through earth, through heaven.

UNGO (1580–1659)

Here none think of wealth or fame,
All talk of right and wrong is quelled:
In autumn I rake the leaf-banked stream,
In spring attend the nightingale.

DAIGU (1584–1669)

Who dares approach the lion's Mountain cave? Cold, robust,
A Zen-man through and through,
I let the spring breeze enter at the gate.

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Excerpted from "Zen Poetry"
by .
Copyright © 1995 Lucien Stryk.
Excerpted by permission of Grove Atlantic, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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