Six Poems of Life on the Mountain

Overview

AUTHOR: Zhang Wei

Six Poems of Life on the Mountain is a work dating from the Shogunate Era, by the former commander of the Shogun's Own Guard Zhang Wei who took the Immaculate style Empty Cloud when he left the Shogunate Court to dwell as an Immaculate hermit on the slopes of Mount Meru. Six Poems of Life on the Mountain consists of six poems composed during this time, and remain amongst the most well-known of the officially sanctioned commentaries on the Immaculate Texts, though the lessons on detachment and understanding of Creation resonate more with the Immaculate monks seeking to perfect their Essence and less with the lay adherents of the Immaculate Order.

Contents

In my mind, the image of a clean and quiet place.
Nature's touch on every facet.
The house woven of plaited rushes.
A good half-acre for growing tubers and flowers.
Beautiful birds perch on cliffs
That encase a few clouds that hang 'round white peaks.
The dust of the world won’t reach up here.
Simple elegance is better than saintliness or spirituality.


Can joy be found in the mountains?
Truly there is more joy in the mountains than anywhere else.
Pines and Bamboo perform their sacred chants.
The songs of flutes are played by birds.
Crag Cats purr on sunlit rocks.
In the ponds, ducks cavort with lotus lilies.
This escape from the ordinary world
Season on season, year on year
Eliminates the hindrances to Enlightenment.


Don’t try to stand tall in the courtyards of fame.
On the Mountain such dreams fade away.
Your body stands on its own when it’s up with the clouds.
Your heart pulls away from worldly attachments.
Luna's course clears a path through the pines
And guides a stream right to the bamboo gate.
Naturally, this is nothing short of amazing.
How could you disparage it... or ever tire of the sight?


On the Mountain there is nothing at all which prohibits
Dreams of cooking Millet during afternoon naps.
If you’re calm by nature, you won’t brood about problems.
You’ll make light of the body and won’t fear the cold.
Chrysanthemums grow by the three ancient paths.
A few planted Plum trees make the whole yard fragrant.
Engagements are blessedly short.
Reflection is blessedly long.


Just wake up from an afternoon nap in a grass hut.
Drag a walking stick and let it bounce free and easy.
Lean on a rock and watch the clouds rise.
Listen to the trees move and you hear the sound of waves.
When the forest is dense, no guests pass by.
When the roads are dangerous, they’re used only for gathering firewood.
The place is so pristine and cool
How could it fail to quench my mind’s furnace of cares?


People complain of a hard life on the Mountain.
I don’t think it’s much different from the hardships of anywhere else.
A clay oven burning Birch twigs,
A stone pot cooking wild mushrooms.
It seems that you’ve only just picked the Chrysanthemums
That grow in the three months of Earth
When it’s time to view the cherries of Air.
Pity more the Moon that night after night
Is forced to entertain society.