Part 19 (1/2)
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He described his life in the mountains in a number of verses that often seem more Taoist than Buddhist. One of the most lyrical follows:
_Ever since the time when I hid in the Cold Mountain
I have kept alive by eating the mountain fruits.
From day to day what is there to trouble me?
This my life follows a destined course.
The days and months flow ceaseless as a stream;
Our time is brief as the flash struck on a stone.
If Heaven and Earth s.h.i.+ft, then let them s.h.i.+ft;
I shall still be sitting happy among the rocks.23
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He was a contradictory individual, one minute solemn in his search for Mind, and the next minute a buoyant bon vivant, writing verses that seem almost a T'ang version of our own carpe diem:
_Of course there are some people who are careful of money,
But not I among them.
Because I dance too much, my garment of thin cloth is worn.
My bottle is empty, for I spurt out the wine when we sing.
Eat a full meal.
Don't tire your feet.
The day when weeds are sprouting through your skull,
You will regret what you have been.24
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The life he describes for himself is one immersed in poetry. He is the compleat poet, whose only concern is writing (not publis.h.i.+ng) verse.