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Han Shan

The Sage of Cold Mountain

About Me

A mountain man lives under thatch before his gate carts and horses are rare the forest is quiet but partial to birds the streams are wide and home to fish with his son he picks wild fruit with his wife he hoes between rocks what does he have at home a shelf full of nothing but books. My true home is Cold Mountain perched among cliffs beyond the reach of trouble ...The Tientiei Mountains are my home mist-shrouded cloud paths keep guests away thousand-meter cliffs make hiding easy above a rocky ledge among ten thousand streams with bark hat and wooden clogs I walk along the banks with hemp robe and pigweed staff I walk around the peaks once you see through transience and illusion the joys of roaming free are wonderful indeed.

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My Interests

Look upon the body as unreal, an image in a mirror, the reflection of the moon in water. Contemplate the mind as formless, yet bright and pure...Not a single thought arising, empty, yet perceptive; still, yet illuminating; complete like the great emptiness, containing all that is wonderful...Beams with a thatch over them, - a wild man's dwelling! Before my gate pass horses and carts seldom enough; The lonely woods gather birds; The broad valley stream harbours fish; With my children I pluck the wild fruits of the trees; My wife and I hoe the rice field; What is there in my house? A single case of books.

I'd like to meet:

The Buddha Mind contains the universe. In this universe there is only one pure substance, One absolute and indivisible Truth. The notion of duality does not exist. The small mind contains only illusions of separateness, of division. It imagines myriad objects and defines truth in terms of relative opposites. Big is defined by small, good by evil, pure by defiled, hidden by revealed, full by empty. What is opposition? It is the arena of hostility, of conflict and turmoil. Where duality is transcended peace reigns. This is the Dharmas ultimate truth.

Music:

A thousand clouds among a myriad streams And in their midst a person at his ease. By day he wanders through the dark green hills, At night goes home to sleep beneath the cliffs. Swiftly the changing seasons pass him by, Tranquil, undefiled, no earthly ties. Such pleasures! - and on what do they rely? On a quiet calm, like autumn river water... As for me, I delight in the everyday Way, Among mist-wrapped vines and rocky caves. Here in the wilderness I am completely free, With my friends, the white clouds, idling forever. There are roads, but they do not reach the world; Since I am mindless, who can rouse my thoughts? On a bed of stone I sit, alone in the night, While the round moon climbs up Cold Mountain.

Movies:

Thirty years ago I was born into the world. A thousand, ten thousand miles I've roamed, By rivers where the green grass lies thick, Beyond the border where the red sands fly. I brewed potions in a vain search for life everlasting, I read books, I sang songs of history, And today I've come home to Cold Mountain To pillow my head on the stream and wash my ears.

Television:

People ask the way to Cold Mountain. Cold Mountain? There is no road that goes through. Even in summer the ice doesn't melt; Though the sun comes out, the fog is blinding. How can you hope to get there by aping me? Your heart and mine are not alike. If your heart were the same as mine, Then you could journey to the very center! Cold Mountain is a house Without beams or walls. The six doors left and right are open The hall is blue sky. The rooms all vacant and vague The east wall beats on the west wall At the center nothing

Books:

Great accomplishments are composed of minute details. Those who succeed in attaining the Whole have attended carefully to each tiny part. Those who fail have ignored or taken too lightly what they deemed to be insignificant. The enlightened person overlooks nothing. I glean what the harvesters have overlooked or rejected. So why are their baskets empty while mine is bursting with good food? They just don't recognize their Buddha Nature when they see it. Everything in life depends on the choices we make. I enjoy my great Buddhist way, On plants and stones it is to lay, My mind's nature is free and vast, White clouds are with me, day by day! My path is not open to the world. My heart is void; unable to say! On the stone bed I sit alone, The white moon rises up round and gay! My mind is like the white moon, Clean and clear as the mirror, Nothing can compare with it, How could I make a metaphor?

Heroes:

The fundamental teaching of Buddhism is nothing but The Doctrine of One Mind. This Mind is originally perfect and vastly illuminating. It is clear and pure, containing nothing, not even a fine dust. There is neither delusion nor enlightenment, Neither birth nor death, Neither saints nor sinners. Sentient beings and Buddhas are of the same fundamental nature. There are no two natures to distinguish them. This is why Bodhidharma came from the west to teach "Direct Pointing" to the original true Mind.

My Blog

Smokey the Bear

SMOKEY THE BEAR. A handsome smokey-colored brown bear standing on his hindlegs, showing that he is aroused and watchful. Bearing in his right paw the Shovel that digs to the truth beneath appearances...
Posted by Han Shan on Sat, 15 Apr 2006 08:30:00 PST

Four Changes

"Four Changes" 1970 [edited and abridged] I. POPULATION Humanity is but a part of the fabric of life -- dependent on the whole fabric for our very existence. As the most highly developed tool-using a...
Posted by Han Shan on Thu, 30 Mar 2006 06:04:00 PST

The "Wild Mind"

The Wild Mind of Gary Snyder For the nineties, the celebrated Beat rebel advocates "wild mind," neighborhood values and watershed politics. "Wild mind," he says, "means elegantly self-disciplined...
Posted by Han Shan on Thu, 30 Mar 2006 05:48:00 PST

Smokey the Bear Sutra

SMOKEY THE BEAR SUTRA Divined through the Bodhisattva Gary Snyder, with help from Fudo Myoo.  Once in the Jurassic, about 150 million years ago, the Great Sun Buddha in this corner of the Infini...
Posted by Han Shan on Thu, 30 Mar 2006 05:40:00 PST

Han Shan...

Born Thirty Years Ago     Thirty years ago I was born into the world. A thousand, ten thousand miles I've roamed. By rivers where the green grass grows thick, Beyond the ...
Posted by Han Shan on Wed, 29 Mar 2006 02:14:00 PST