The vulgar mind is clogged and blind,
While the wise man's vision is refined.
At midnight on Mount Luofu, the sun appears;
At the South Pole, stars shine amid the ocean's spheres.
To contemplate the heart, no other method lies;
To question dreams, there are the ancient sages' replies.
Sometimes the night seems longer than the night;
The body still exists beyond this body's plight.
All things are fashioned by the mind's decree;
A thousand spirits share their life with me.
In sickness, I hear ants in battle roar;
In sudden insight, I rejoice at the donkey's call, and more.
Heaven stood firm when the giant turtle's limbs were torn;
Men and naked worms together are born.
Primordial breath holds nothing in its sway;
Yet every being with spirit feels in its own way.
A tattered robe returns to Du's cellar deep;
The boat sails back to the Jade Heaven's keep.
Doubt not the Buddha's wealth and noble state;
Nor trust in ghosts or gods, their power is but a fate.
Fame and merit are but a laughable affair;
Time and destiny occasionally pair.
A chicken or a pig could be an emperor grand;
Even an ant may rule a tiny land.
The realm of form is truly a demon's lair;
The land of immortals is half a drunken snare.
Wrongly I sought the stone that sobers wine;
Foolishly searched for incense to revive, a sign.
Life's whiteness, the spirit's vision, wondrous and bright;
Flight of the mysterious, hidden rhymes take flight.
I do not scorn the theory that being is all;
But rather love the songs that on emptiness call.
I scolded Zheng Xuan in his day;
I plucked from Li Shangyin in my way.
Who believes the Book of Changes from a tomb?
Who doubts the poems from Kunlun's gloom?
The rafter worker grasped the brush's intent;
The seafarer understood the zither's sentiment.
The Chan dharma is gained in empty air;
The scholar seeks it on paper, with care.