The Sixth Patriarch Hui Neng

[Lake]

The Sixth Patriarch Hui Neng

Again and again, dusk drum and dawn bell
Pine grove, aging into lingering sound
When melancholic moonlight has congealed to moss
time still casually outlines mottled walls
Oh -
I am an illiterate, untonsured monk
in a small house of a monastery

The hungry stone mortar never steals grains
Firewood is chopped apart by an ax
I cleave the years with my head
Yet a wooden ladle cannot cut pond water into pieces
Oh –
I am an assiduous, untonsured monk
in a small house of a monastery

They say the wooden clapper swallowed Buddhist sutras
so they beat it hard day and night
But I have a friendly bird
that often flies to my window chirping its mind
Oh –
I am a lonely, untonsured monk
in a small house of a monastery

One night, while fondling stars
I, unconsciously, play out a little poem
I’d like to be draped with sunset, facing the mountains
why is this little kesa passed onto me?

Ah – I am purified as wind
running away from all statues.


Huineng is the Sixth and Last Patriarch of Chán Buddhism.
It is said when the Fifth Patriarch Hongren announced that his disciples go and seek wisdom in their mind and write a stanza and he who understands what the Essence of Mind is will be given the robe (the insignia of the Patriarchate) and the Dharma (the esoteric teaching of the Chán school), and will be made the Sixth Patriarch.
The head monk Shenxiu wrote a poem anonymously on the wall in the middle of the night:

The body is a Bodhi tree,
the mind a standing mirror bright.
At all times polish it diligently,
and let no dust alight.

Wehn Huineng heard this recited by other monks, he immediately knew this verse lacked true insight. He went to the wall, and asked a district officer there to write a poem of his own for him.

Bodhi is no tree,
nor is the mind a standing mirror bright.
Since all is originally empty,
where does the dust alight?

One night, the Fifth Patriarch Hongren passed the robe and begging bowl as a symbol of the Dharma Seal of Sudden Enlightenment to Huineng.


六祖慧能
--李加建

一遍遍，暮鼓晨钟
松林，衰老进袅袅余音
当月色的忧郁凝为苔藓
时光乃于院墙上胡乱勾勒斑痕
噢——
我是禅寺寮房
一个不识经文的行者

饥饿的石臼从不偷吃谷物
木柴迎向斧头崩裂
我以头颅劈开岁月
木瓢却不能把潭水切成碎块
噢——
我是禅寺寮房
一个辛勤劳作的行者

他们说木鱼吞吃了佛经
昼夜狠命将它敲打
我却有一只相好的鸟儿
常来窗前啁啾一些心事
噢——
我是禅寺寮房
一个品尝孤独的行者

有个夜晚我抚弄星星
不知不觉弹出一首小诗
我本爱披着斜阳面对群山
为何却把小小袈裟传授与我？

吁——我澄清为风
逃离一切雕塑

[twoleftfeet]

Hi Lake,

I really like this poem - profundity mixed with humility and comedy.

I think I understand the broad thrust of the poem : form and structure are an illusion.

Some of the images are hard to fathom, this one for example:
When melancholic moonlight congealed to moss
time still casually outlines mottled walls

- although I'm not sure of its meaning I think -
When melancholic moonlight has congealed to moss
time still casually outlines mottled walls
- gives a better sense of continuation into the present tense.

Firewood chopped apart by an ax
- could perhaps be Firewood is chopped apart by an axe ?


The final couplet is the "punchline" of the poem IMHO:
Ah – I am purified as wind
running away from all sculptures.

- I'm just wondering are there any alternatives for "sculpture"?

Nice work
Geoff

[Lake]

Hi Geoff,

Thanks for the quick reply.

I used passive voice for this line
When melancholic moonlight (is) congealed to moss
but now I like your "has".

- could perhaps be Firewood is chopped apart by an axe ?
That's what I wrote in my first draft. Guess "is" cannot be omitted.

I have problem with the last line, I know it is not clear. I thought about "statue", it still doesn't sound right.
I'll think it over.

Your interpretation helps me to better understand this poem.

Thanks as always.

Lake

[twoleftfeet]

Hi Geoff,

I have problem with the last line, I know it is not clear. I thought about "statue", it still doesn't sound right.
I'll think it over.

Your interpretation helps me to better understand this poem.

Lake

Lake, you are assuming my interpretation is correct..

I must admit I like "statue" better: it's easier to picture, for me, plus I get the association of "frozen" which
fits in with the lines about time (e.g. "I cleave the years with my head" ) and contrasts nicely with "running (away)"

Wouldn't this be a great ending?:
I am purified as wind
running away from a sand-painting

Keep up the good work
Geoff