The golden elixir, a wondrous medicine with no bounds,
A single crimson spark glows within and without.
True mercury and lead, once taken in hand,
In moments tame the tiger and capture the dragon alive.
Master Huang is hired into Master Ding's abode,
In the Xun position, breath is blown for nine cycles of work.
After ten months, the embryo forms beyond Kan and Li,
Purple clouds fly out, the jade furnace stands empty.
Coarse cloth and wrapped headscarves fill the market streets,
Searching for herbs, burning straw, cooking medicine cabinets.
One's own three yellows and four spirits,
Who knows the intent of calming the stove and cooking the furnace?
Paper robes and hemp clothes to hide in the mountains,
Feasting on pine, drinking water, enduring hunger and cold.
Sun soul and moon essence breathe in vain,
Only in the end does one know the path is hard to tread.
In the ghost cave at the foot of Black Mountain,
Back bent, head drooping, mouth flowing with water.
In a dream, dreaming of a dreamer,
When will the sulfur ever die?
The foolish man of scant fortune cannot cease lust,
The tail gate closed, he gathers her yin.
The primal essence sways without walls,
Mistaking yellow mud, he calls it gold.
Rong Cheng at Three Peaks learns to pleasure women,
Gathering essence, sucking blood, and swallowing milk.
The Great Dao originally has no yin or yang,
Toiling the body, clinging to form, is but self-torment.
Knocking teeth, swallowing essence, gulping breath sounds,
The pulley moves emptily, a skeleton's shape.
Falsely taking mouth and nose as the mysterious gate,
Vainly speaking of golden essence filling behind the elbow.
Nose closed, breath stopped, vainly drawing cakes,
How many escape their shadow at high noon?
Guest winds and evil qi rumble in the belly,
How can long-lasting cinnabar stay in the cauldron?
Meditating to see nature, uniting with true suchness,
Do not say 'no-mind' and then lean on emptiness.
Enlightened but not practicing dry wisdom,
Through a thousand cliffs and ten thousand ravines the journey goes.
How many aged Confucians study the Book of Changes,
Do they know the Supreme Ultimate returns to the Limitless?
Forgetting form, they wish to follow innate truth,
Only fearing spring departs, grass lacks strength.
The Bright Teaching sect specializes in subduing demons,
What of the merit of seven periods?
Not knowing the meaning of purity and bright light,
Their faces sallow and withered, they grind in vain.
The Hu clan's Yang Mountain, one fruit ancestor,
Nine returns of adornment are all false words.
Hand holding a golden ring, moving three chariots,
Who is it that flies up to the golden heaven?
Further, there are fasting followers of the four fruits,
At Nine-bend River's head, casting iron talismans.
Frankincense burned out, hard to become a Buddha,
Essence, blood, primal yang—transported till dry.
Three thousand six hundred heretical arts,
Opening the crown, shrinking the turtle, practicing breath control.
Visualizing the cinnabar field, refining the five sprouts,
Expelling the old, drawing the new—vainly valuing effort.
Worshipping pagodas, burning incense, reciting sutras,
Further able to bow to the Dipper and gaze at stars.
Swallowing talismans, drinking water, solely holding mantras,
How by such means can the Dao be attained?
Concentrating thought, massaging, the Eight Brocades,
Hissing, ha-ing the six words, regulating rest.
If you wish to return essence to replenish the brain,
Unless with a cup of clarified butter drink.
Both eyes gazing afar, moving the crown gate,
Playfully saying sun and moon shine on Kunlun.
How bear to see the circular light appear again,
Then pointing to the Heavenly Honored One and World-Honored One.
Eyes originally have no light, man's delusive thought;
Ears originally have no sound, how then get noise?
Above is the great abyss, below the deep pool,
Falsely pointing to the central yellow, enduring belly hunger.
Vainly pressing the Zhou天 cycles, counting the seals,
How many can recognize the true dragon and tiger?
If one knows the true dragon and true tiger person,
Then understands the single path leading upward.
Secretly holding a bamboo ladle, swallowing small urine,
Spitting and swallowing saliva, making pearl rounds.
Two streams of mucus flow from the nose,
Then dare to call themselves Immortal of Jade Chopsticks.
Explaining fully the basis of preserving three and guarding one,
Nine years refining elixir in thought's domain.
Forgetting the family treasure, seeking outward,
A hundred years making a shadowy spirit ghost.
Heaven's gate, wolfberries, and yellow essence,
Beans, apricots, ginger, pepper, white poria.
Unclear whether an earth immortal is achieved or not,
Skin scorched, flesh rotten—a pitiful life.
Fast and rite, official proclamation, singing Sanskrit tunes,
Dividing rings, breaking contracts, receiving register texts.
Not recognizing the two true words 'Heaven's Heart',
Mouth reciting three lights, talisman water ripe.
Sleeve's thunder seal frightens mountain sprites,
Hand holding willow twigs, learning to hide form.
This mind originally connects to the divine storehouse,
With one wrong thought, ten thousand states arise.
This body, outside the body, all are hidden things;
This mind, outside the mind, all are demonic arts.
The true body within the body, the true mind within the mind,
Not in the middle, not inside, not outside.
These golden liquor, great returned elixirs,
From the original valley up to the mud pellet.
Adding and subtracting, seven returns, not much ado,
Plants and trees mindless, heaven and earth at leisure.
True root, true stem, congealing true cream,
True cauldron, true altar, true medicine stove.
Yang days begin, yin days accumulate,
Clearly yang fire and yin tally.
Half an acre cinnabar field planted with golden grain,
One blossom of numinous fungus, fragrance rich and dense.
An iron ox roars into the soft kitchen,
A wooden horse gallops, leaping into the golden house.
Qian and Kun, two eights, congeal cinnabar sand,
The full cauldron melts, melts with white snow flowers.
Grasping turtle and snake, returning to both hands,
In the mountain, the jade rabbit transforms into a golden crow.
The returned elixir has a formula, but few know its tone,
Mercury dragon, lead tiger, rely on fire times.
Within three thousand marks, the infant congeals,
Harmonizing, warming, nurturing—finally no leak.
The whole body like a single piece of jade,
Cold toad's light shines on jade pot ice.
At the crown gate, midnight, thunder's roar,
All around the earth, clear wind—gods and ghosts startle.
In heaven and among men, the true wondrous formula,
Who dares leak heaven's mechanism in private?
One must be a hero, a great man,
Clearly, within the breast, not a single thing.
As soon as yang stirs, the great elixir is done,
A moment's effort, creation's spirit.
Only fearing the Southern Palace records the name,
Drunk, riding a white crane, to court the Supreme Clarity.