Zenrin Kushu
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Anthology of passages from the zen forests
On top, no pebble to cover me.
Below, not a single stone to step on.
Sitting in silence, doing nothing,
spring comes, and the grass grows by itself.
In open space, there is no front or back.
There has never been two paths.
The birds have never heard talk.
from the east or from the west.
Wild geese do not intend to reflect in the water;
The water does not intend to receive its image.
Hollow out your hands, fill them with water,
and you will have the moon.
Embrace the flowers and their scent will cling to your clothes.
Mountains and rivers, all the Earth,
All manifest the essence of being.
The voice of the torrent in the mountain is a great tongue;
The lines of the hills, are they not the Pure Body of the Buddha?
My roof and my house have burned down;
nothing the shining moon hides from me.
You can't achieve it by just thinking about it;
you can't look it up without thinking about it.
The trees show the body's form of the wind;
the waves give vital energy to the moon.
This broken mirror will reflect no more;
The fallen flower will not return to the branch.
The old pine reveals divine wisdom;
The elusive bird manifests the eternal truth.
Like a sword that cuts but cannot cut itself;
like an eye that sees but cannot see itself.
See the sun in the middle of the rain, and take water from the heart of the fire.
Riding on the blade of a sword,
hiding among the flames of a fire.
You cannot understand this through thought,
but you also can't search for it without using it.
Be like a lion, only with the horns,
Be like a bull, just without the tail.
Nothing at all is hidden;
Since time immemorial, everything is clear as daylight.
There is no place where thoughts reside,
it's like searching for the footprints of birds in the sky.
The water that has passed
the water still to come,
now and always flow.
Past and future
they overlap and complement each other.
The morning fog travels hand in hand with the wild geese.
The autumn water holds the same color as the sky.
If you can't believe it,
check it in September, in October,
yellow leaves
falling,
falling;
filling the mountain and the stream.
Day after day the sun rises, day after day the sun sets.
Continue without ceasing, always towards the point where nothing has an end.
Sitting still, waiting for the white clouds to rise.
The wind calms down, the flowers still fall;
The birds shout, the silence deepens in the mountain.
To save your life, you must die.
Only when one is completely destroyed,
the rest of peace arrives.
If you don't find it within yourself,
Where else will you look for it?
If you want to know the way to climb the mountain,
ask those who travel through it continuously.
Mountains and rivers, the great land,
all contained in the very essence.
The voice of the mountain speaks only one language,
lines and slopes of the hills,
Aren't they the body of Buddha?
One word establishes heaven and earth,
a sword levels the whole world.
The day does not wait for the sun to be warm,
the wind does not wait for the moon to be cool.
If you don't kill him, he will kill you!
Sail through the water and do not confuse yourself with the mountains for being in motion.
Blow out the candles; it only seems like the cliffs are running in the distance.
Blue cliffs, they are blue for themselves.
White clouds, they are white for themselves.
In this spring landscape, there is no better or worse;
the branches, laden with flowers, grow naturally,
some short, others long.
I live, but not in celestial dreams.
I will enter death without fear of hell.
I hold the handle of the hoe, but my hands are empty,
Riding the buffalo, and at the same time walking.
When I walked in the forest,
I will not move a blade of grass.
When I walked on water,
Not a wave will be stirred.
The leaves fall on the forest path.
Receiving displeasure is receiving happiness;
Receiving agreement is receiving opposition.
A long thing is the long body of the Buddha;
A short thing is the short body of the Buddha.
Like a sword that cuts, but cannot cut itself;
like an eye that sees, but cannot see itself.
Quietly sitting, doing nothing,
spring arrives and the grass grows by itself.
When they meet, they laugh, they laugh...
The grove, many fallen leaves.
There is nothing like walking dressed and feeding oneself.
Outside of this, there are neither Buddhas nor Patriarchs.
Be aware of the mind, of the original nature:
that is precisely the great illness of Zen.
To save life, one must destroy it.
When it is completely destroyed, for the first time we are at peace.
A word establishes heaven and earth, a sword levels the entire world.
As butterflies approach newly blossomed flowers,
Bodhidharma says: 'I don't know.'
On Mount Wu-t'ai, the clouds boil rice;
In front of the ancient Buddha hall, dogs urinate the sky.