Feb 28 2019
What does it matter,
The new year, the old year?
I stretch out my legs
And all alone have a
Quiet sleep.
Don’t tell me the monks
Aren’t getting their instruction;
Here and there the nightingale
Is singing;
The highest Zen.
— Bankei (1622-1693)
Feb 27 2019
From the world of passions,
Returning to the world of passions.
There is a moment’s pause.
If it rains, let it rain,
If the wind blows, let it blow.
— Ikkyu (1394-1481)
Feb 26 2019
Water streams down the mountain,
Clouds return to high caves,
When people can match
the clouds and water,
Iron trees will blossom,
and everywhere will be spring.
— Ci'an Shoujing (mid 12th c)
Feb 25 2019

Strange crags on the summit,
slow, slow clouds;
the source of the stream,
murmuring water.
Before climbers reach
the limit
of the mountain,
the eyes of most
are blocked
by green peaks
— Baiyang Fashun (1076-1139)
Feb 24 2019
Instructing Chan Disciples on Nanyue Mountain

To part the grass and see the wind
And distinguish true from false,
You must first pluck out
All the sand from your eyes.
Raise your head,
As if tasting Tianhuang’s cake;
Empty your minds
It’s hard to drink Zhaozhou’s tea.
Without a word,
Nanquan returned to his cell;
Lingyun wrote a poem
When enlightened by peach blossoms.
Explain these to me
From the beginning;
Let me see the true master
Of the Dharma forest.
— Huanglong Huinan (1002-1060)
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