The crow flies in gold, the hare runs in jade, the three realms are but a grain of millet.
Mountains, rivers, and the great earth—how many years of dust? Yin and Yang reversed, entering the dark valley.
Human life is within the spark of stone and flash of lightning; a few guest magpies perch on the branch to rest.
Mulberry fields turn to blue seas, spring returns to autumn; Heaven and Earth never cease the interplay of Kan and Li.
In the high Ninth Heaven, wind and moon are cold; within the immortal's belly, there is no idle sorrow.
Those in the world who learn immortality find their bosoms turning pure and elegant.
Without reading the cinnabar classics, they hope to ascend; pointing at shadows, discussing emptiness, they deceive and frighten.
Sometimes galloping with a three-inch tongue, or on the street pretending to be mute.
Within the upright, fear there may be evil; within the true, one must distinguish the false.
If one is a person of clarity, emptiness, coldness, and indifference, with nothing outside the body, utterly bare.
All come to gather qi and concentrate spirit; they wish to refine the golden elixir and deceive how many?
Leading thieves into the house to open the treasure vault, not knowing that beyond the body there is yet another body hidden.
Seeking the body beyond the body within the body, the harmonious qi of emptiness fills a pot of spring.
Capturing the six thieves alive by hand, chewing the three corpses alive by mouth.
The three corpses and six thieves originally do not exist; all arise from the busyness within the heart.
The Jade Emperor not only treasures the edict, but also requires the spirit and qi to be preserved.
This spirit and this qi coalesce into true essence, called the pure yang cycle of nine times nine.
Only then is it called the perfection of the holy embryo; turning somersaults atop the ten-thousand-zhang cliff.
Lead and mercury are like dung and earth; dragon and tiger are like chicken and dog.
White gold and black tin, several thousand kinds; mercury and cinnabar entice each other.
White snow and yellow sprouts naturally have no form; the divine water of Hua Pool has no spring flow.
Not understanding the turning back of one move, they rush wind and brave rain, wandering in all directions.
Wandering in all directions, seeking a master; when they find a false master to instruct them, pitifully they point blindly to each other.
The Great Dao is not beyond the square inch of the heart; the effort is fine and dense, requiring practice.
Not by contemplation, not by raising intention, not by moving essence and qi within the body.
One pass locked makes a hundred passes firm; turning the body on the single path is truly easy.
The mindless mind has no form; within nothingness, nourish the infant spirit.
Learning immortality until reaching the infant stage, the moon is bright in the cold pool's stillness.
Withered wood blossoms with fragrance beyond; the old man by the sea makes a pact with white gulls from time to time.
A moment's effort is easy to do; the great elixir is only achieved in a moment.
Clutching strange words and bizarre phrases, thousands of analogies now like this.
Life is up to it, death is up to it, as long as one's own self is master.
Clouds in the sky can also be bound.
The moon in the water can also be caught.
The two words 'body and mind' are both fire and medicine.
Turtle, snake, crow, hare—all idle talk; husband and wife, man and woman—all cast aside.
Do you not see? From emptiness is born spontaneity, from spontaneity is born the one qi.
The one qi coalesces into things; when qi is sufficient, it divides into heaven and earth.
Heaven and earth originally have no mind; the two qi are naturally so.
All things have flourishing and withering; the great numbers have end and beginning.
Understanding the innate spontaneity is the true root of nature and life.
The five thousand words of the Dao De Jing, the three hundred characters of the Yin Fu.
Form and spirit, nature and life, body and mind, spirit and qi.
Their union becomes the great treasure, which is the principle of the golden elixir.
People of the world mostly cling; temporarily regard action as non-action.
The fierce husband can comprehend; try chewing these words in leisure.
As for the ancient sages and worthies, they established teachings to guide people, all without error.
Moreover, if one can tread the straight path directly, a single road leads straight to the Three Pure Pavilions.
Below the Three Pure Pavilions, a mass of marrow; day and night, the jade light glimmers and shines.
The Daoist of Cloud Valley is an immortal among men; his bone and qi are splendid, truly open and upright.
In recent years, much bound by the red dust; sixty-four years have all been wrong.
Scrape away the dust and grime, eyes suddenly open; with a long whistle, I return whence I came.
The tricks of immortals are not many; just a single flavor of foolishness in the human world, yet suddenly one also reaches Penglai.
The Wanderer of Wuyi tells you, seeing you truly have the bones of an immortal.
Now I also do not refine form and spirit; sometimes I wish to act mad, sometimes act unruly.
When cold, I naturally have the fire of the cinnabar field; when hungry, I only eat the snow of Qiong Lake.
The year before last, the immortal master sent a letter back, saying my name is in the Golden Tower.
An idle name fallen into the world cannot be retrieved; now my heart's conduct is especially perverse.
How could the Jade Emperor take pity on me? When summoned to return, I am not yet willing.