The everyday mind: that is the way. Buried in vines and rock-bound caves, Here it’s wild, here I am free, Idling with the white clouds, my friends. Tracks here never reach the world; No-mind, so what can shift my thought? I sit the night through on a bed of stone, While the moon climbs Cold Mountain.
Yesterday I saw the trees by the river’s edge, Wrecked and broken beyond belief, Only two or three trunks left standing, Scarred by blades of a thousand axes. Frost strips the yellowing leaves, River waves pluck at withered roots. This is the way the living must fare. Why curse at Heaven and Earth?
No need to attack the faults of others no need to flaunt your own virtues act when you’re acknowledged retire when you’re ignored rich rewards mean great trials deep words meet superficial minds think about what you hear children must see for themselves
The rich man feasted in his high hall, Bright torches shining everywhere, When a man too poor to own a lamp Crept to the side to share in the glow. Who would think they would drive him away, Back again to his place in the dark? “Will one more person detract from your light? Strange, to begrudge me a leftover beam!”
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