Classic Poem

Mount Tiantai is the sacred flower of all mountain ranges. Cross the sea and you will find Fangzhang and Penglai; turn inland and you will come to Siming and Tiantai, all of them places where the sages of the occult wander and perform their transformations, where the holy immortals have their caves and dwellings. The endlessly soaring shapes of these ranges, their miraculous beauty exhaust the wealth and wonder of mountain and sea, embrace all that is brave and admirable among gods and men. The reason that Mount Tiantai is not ranked among the Five Sacred Peaks, that records of it are lacking in the classical texts — is it not that it stands in such a remote and out-of-the-way place, that the road there is so long and hard to trace? Now casting its shadow into the many-fathomed depths, now hiding its summit among a thousand ranges — to reach it one must first travel the paths of goblins and trolls, and finally enter the realm where no human being lives Few men in all the world have ever succeeded in climbing it; no kings have come to offer sacrifices. Therefore mention of it is not to be found in ordinary writings; its name is celebrated only in the accounts of wonders.
And yet the diagram of the mountain that has been drawn for me — how could it be a deception? Surely if one is not the kind who will abandon the world to amuse himself with the Way, who will give up grain to subsist on a diet of mushrooms, then how can he clamber nimbly up its slopes and make his home there? If one is not the sort who can embark on a far-off journey in order to delve into mysteries, who is fervent in his faith and can make his spirit go where he wishes, then how would he dare attempt to visit it in his distant imagination?
And so it is that I have caused my spirit to gallop and my thoughts to turn round and round, chanting by day and watching by night, until, in less time than it takes to wag one's head, it seems as though I have already twice ascended the mountain! Now I am about to cast off all bonds and shackles and reside forever on these peaks. But because I cannot bear to go on forever with these mumbled imaginings, I have called upon literature to aid me in expressing what is in my heart.
The Great Void, vast and wide, that knows no boundary,
Sets in cycle the mysterious Being, So-of-itself;
Melting, it forms the rivers and water ways;
Thickening, it turns into mountains and hills.
Ah, the awesome eminence of Tiantai peak —
Truly it must be held up by the gods!
Under the Herdboy's protection, it flaunts its bright crests;
Sheltering in the holy land of Yue, it makes certain of a four-square base,
Spreading a net of roots vaster than Mounts Hua and Tai,
Pointing straight upward, taller than the Nine Doubts,
Equal of the " counterpart of Heaven " in the " Canon of Yao, "
A match for the " craggy heights " of the Odes of Zhou
Yet so far away are those peerless regions,
So remote and mysterious,
That the petty-wise merely gaze but fail to journey there,
And those who go, because the trail runs out, never find the way
I laugh at such summer insects who doubt that ice exists,
Prepare my light-winged mount, longing to depart
No inner law stays forever hidden and undisclosed:
See how these two wonders parade their form!
Red Wall, like sunset mists ascending, planted for a guidepost,
The Cataract, leaping and plunging, to blazon the way.
When I glimpse these sacred signs, then I will be off;
Suddenly now I am on my way,
Asking the feathered men on their cinnabar hills
How to find that happy domain where no one ever dies
If the heights of Tiantai can really be scaled,
Why long for the Storied City?
It cast off the constant attachments of this world,
Giving vent to nobler, more exalted feelings;
Clad in shaggy folds of fur and felt,
With the clang-clang of the metal staff I wield,
I'll push through the murk of tangled forests,
Climb the sharp acclivity of precipice and slope,
Across You Creek and straight ahead,
Moving quickly past the point where five counties join.
Then straddling the arc of the soaring stone bridge,
I'll peer down ten thousand feet to untold depths;
I'll tread the slippery moss-covered stone,
Reach for the cliff that rises like a kingfisher-colored screen,
Snatch the strands of dodder that trail from tall trees,
Cling to the flying stems of creeper and vine
But though I face a moment's danger, on the brink of a fall,
In the end I gain forever the gift of long life.
So long as I keep faith with the dark and hidden Way,
I may trudge the steepest slopes and they are level plains to me,
And when I have traversed all their nine turnings,
The road will stretch before me unending and clear,
Where my heart will wander unconcerned, my eyes roam free,
And I will let my slow steps take me where they will.
I'll spread a mat of slender grasses, rich and tender,
Sheltering beneath these lanky giants, the tall pines;
Watch the flight of winging luan birds,
Listen to the chorus of phoenixes warbling
And when I've crossed Spirit Gorge and bathed myself there,
All the nagging worries will be cleansed from my chest;
In the swirling flow I'll wash away the last fleck of " dust, "
Free myself from the pursuing darkness of the " five becloudings. "
Then I'll set out to follow the matchless ways of Fu Xi and Shen Nong
To tread in the dark footsteps of the two named Lao.
Clambering up and down, camping a night or two,
I'll come at last to the city of immortals,
Its double gates like banks of cloud flanking the road,
Its garnet terrace thrust halfway to the sky, suspended there;
Vermilion portals glowing and resplendent among the trees,
Jade halls now hidden, now bright on the tall turn of the hill,
With rosy clouds arrayed like wings at lattice casements,
The radiant sun streaming through window grilles
Eight huge cassia trees stand high and unscarred by frost,
Five-hued mushrooms unfold their caps in the morning light
Gentle breezes pile up fragrance in the sunny woods;
Spring water, sweet to the taste, bubbles through shady channels.
The jian tree rises a thousand yards without casting a shadow;
The qi -gem tree, sparkling and shining, droops with jewels
Wang Qiao, a crane for his mount, hurries up to heaven;
The " responders to Truth, " waving their staffs, pace the void,
Performing the hocus-pocus of their uncanny transformations,
Suddenly emerging from Being to enter Non-being
And then,
When I have come full circle in my wandering inspection,
Body stilled, mind at rest,
When whatever " hurts the horses " has been done away with,
And chores of the world all have been renounced,
Then, wherever I move my knife, it will always find the hollow;
I'll eye the ox but never see it whole
Composing my thoughts beside the somber cliffs,
I'll chant in a clear voice by the endless river.
And so,
When Xihe, charioteer of the sun, arrives at the point of noon,
And trailing vapors have lifted and dispersed,
The dharma-drums, booming, will wake the echoes,
And countless blends of incense send up pungent smoke,
In preparation for audience with the Heavenly Ancestor,
For the gathering here of the enrolled immortals.
We will dip up the rich oil of black jade,
Freshen our mouths in the springs of Flower Lake,
Spreading doctrines of what is " beyond symbol, "
Expounding texts on what is " without origination " ;
Till we realize that Being can never wholly be rejected,
That to walk with Non-being still leaves gaps.
We'll destroy both Form and Emptiness, making our path one,
Turn at once to Being, and thereby gain the Way,
Abandoning the two " names " that spring from a single source,
Wiping out the one nothingness of the " three banners "
Then we may chatter as merrily as we like all day long —
It will be the same as utter silence, as though we'd never spoken
We will merge with the ten thousand images through deepest contemplation;
Unwitting, we'll join our bodies with the So-of-itself.