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.