A REST ON THE WAY BACK
FROM THE LEAKY ROAD
TO THE NEVER-LEAKING ROAD;
IF IT RAINS, LET IT RAIN;
IF IT BLOWS, LET IT BLOW.
 
MY SELF OF LONG AGO,
IN NATURE NON-EXISTENT;
NOWHERE TO GO WHEN DEAD,
NOTHING AT ALL.
 
WHEN ASKED, HE ANSWERED;
NO QUESTION, NO ANSWER;
THEN MASTER DARUMA
MUST HAVE HAD
NOTHING IN HIS MIND.
 
OUR MIND --
WITHOUT END,
WITHOUT BEGINNING,
THOUGH IT IS BORN, THOUGH IT DIES --
THE ESSENCE OF EMPTINESS!
 
ALL THE SINS COMMITTED
IN THE THREE WORLDS
WILL FADE AND DISAPPEAR
TOGETHER WITH MYSELF.

IF AT THE END OF OUR JOURNEY
THERE BE NO FINAL RESTING PLACE,
HOW CAN THERE BE
A WAY TO LOSE OURSELVES IN?
 
SHAKYAMUNI,
THAT MISCHIEVOUS CREATURE,
HAVING APPEARED IN THE WORLD,
MISLED, ALAS,
HOW MANY PEOPLE!
 
THE MIND --
WHAT SHALL WE CALL IT?
IT IS THE SOUND OF THE BREEZE
THAT BLOWS THROUGH THE PINES
IN THE INDIAN-INK PICTURE.
 
THE MIND REMAINING
JUST AS IT WAS BORN --
WITHOUT ANY PRAYER
IT BECOMES THE BUDDHA.
 
TELL A LIE,
AND YOU FALL INTO HELL.
THEN WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO BUDDHA
WHO CONTRIVED
THINGS THAT DON'T EXIST?

OF HEAVEN OR HELL WE HAVE
NO RECOLLECTION, NO KNOWLEDGE;
WE MUST BECOME WHAT WE WERE
BEFORE WE WERE BORN.
 
RAIN, HAIL, SNOW AND ICE
ARE DIVIDED FROM ONE ANOTHER;
BUT AFTER THEY FALL,
THEY ARE THE SAME WATER
OF THE STREAM IN THE VALLEY.
 
SHOULD YOU SEEK
THE WAY OF THE BUDDHA
ALL NIGHT LONG,
SEARCHING, YOU WILL ENTER
INTO YOUR OWN MI11D.
 
WHEN THEY ASK YOU,
"WHERE IS YOUR COUNTRY?
WHAT IS YOUR NATIVE PLACE?" ANSWER,
"I AM A MAN
OF ORIGINAL INACTIVITY."
 
THE FIGURE OF THE REAL MAN
STANDING THERE --
JUST A GLIMPSE OF HIM,
AND WE ARE IN LOVE.

IF IT RAIN NOT, LET IT NOT RAIN;
BUT EVEN SHOULD IT NOT RAIN,
YOU MUST TRAVEL
WITH WET SLEEVES.
 
LOOK AT THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS!
THEIR COLOUR AND SCENT FALL WITH THEM,
ARE GONE FOR EVER,
YET MINDLESS
THE SPRING COMES AGAIN.
 
BUDDHISM
IS THE SHAVED PART OF THE SAUCEPAN,
THE WHISKERS OF THE PEBBLE,
THE SOUND THAT ACCOMPANIES
THE BAMBOOS IN THE PICTURE.
 
THE PUPPET-PLAYER HANGS THEM
ROUND HIS NECK, NOT HIS HEART;
HE CAN TAKE OUT A DEVIL,
HE CAN TAKE OUT A BUDDHA.
 
IF HE SAYS,
"THERE IS NOTHING SPECIAL ABOUT IT,"
ALREADY HE HAS TRANSGRESSED,
AND CAN SAY NOTHING ELSE,
THIS DARUMA IKKYU.

MY ABIDING PLACE
HAS NO PILLARS;
IT IS ROOFLESS --
YET THE RAIN DOES NOT WET IT,
NOR THE WIND STRIKE IT.
 
WHEN IT BLOWS,
THE MOUNTAIN WIND IS BOISTEROUS,
BUT WHEN IT BLOWS NOT,
IT SIMPLY BLOWS NOT.
 
THOUGH IT HAS NO BRIDGE,
THE CLOUD CLIMBS UP TO HEAVEN;
IT DOES NOT ASK AID
OF GAUTAMA'S SUTRAS.
 
RIPPLES APPEAR
ON THE UNACCUMULATED WATER
OF THE UNDUG WELL,
AS THE FORMLESS, BODILESS MAN
DRAWS WATER FROM IT.
 
THE MIND:
SINCE THERE IS REALLY
NO SUCH THING AS MIND,
WITH WHAT ENLIGHTENMENT
SHALL IT BE ENLIHTENED?

PITIFUL ARE
PEOPLE WHO DO NOT KNOW
NIRVANA AND ITS ETERNAL FELICITY!
HOW THEY GRIEVE
AT LIFE, DEATH, AND MUTABILITY!
 
SHAKA, AND AMIDA TOO,
WERE ORIGINALLY HUMAN BEINGS;
HAVE I NOT ALSO
THE FORM OF A MAN?
 
WONDERFUL, INDEED,
THE LOTUS FLOWER OF THE LAW!
HOWEVER MANY AGES MAY PASS,
STILL THAT SAME COLOUR.
 
THE CRESCENT MOON
BECOMES FULL, AND WANES,
AND NOTHING IS LEFT;
BUT STILL, THERE IN THE DAWN,
THE CRESCENT MOON!
 
WHENEVER WE SEE THEM, ALL ARE
JUST AS THEY ARE:
THE WILLOW IS GREEN,
THE FLOWER IS RED.

SINCE THE JOURNEY OF LIFE
IS LITTLE BUT GRIEF AND PAIN,
WHY SHOULD WE BE SO RELUCTANT
TO RETURN TO THE SKY OF OUR NATIVE PLACE?
 
TO WRITE SOMETHING AND LEAVE IT BEHIND US,
IT IS BUT A DREAM.
WHEN WE AWAKE WE KNOW
THERE IS NOT EVEN ANYONE TO READ IT.
 
THOUGH WE DO NOT PREACH THE DOCTRINE,
UNASKED THE FLOWERS BLOOM IN SPRING;
THEY FALL AND SCATTER,
THEY TURN TO DUST.
 
WE ARE BORN, WE DIE.
ALL ARE THE SAME,
SHAKAMUNI, DARUMA,
THE CAT AND THE LADLE.
 
TO HARDEN INTO A BUDDHA IS WRONG;
ALL THE MORE I THINK SO
WHEN I LOOK AT A STONE BUDDHA.

"WE COME INTO THIS WORLD ALONE,
WE DEPART ALONE" --
THIS ALSO IS ILLUSION.
I WILL TEACH YOU THE WAY
NOT TO COME, NOT TO GO!
 
WE EAT, EXCRETE, SLEEP, AND GET UP;
THIS IS OUR WORLD.
ALL WE HAVE TO DO AFTER THAT
IS TO DIE.
 
I SHAN'T DIE, I SHAN'T GO ANYWHERE,
I'LL BE HERE;
BUT DON'T ASK ME ANYTHING,
I SHAN'T ANSWER.
 
WHATSOEVER IT MAY BE,
IT IS ALL PART OF THE WORLD OF ILLUSION,
DEATH ITSELF
NOT BEING A REAL THING.
 
SHOULD YOU WISH TO KNOW THE WAY
IN BOTH THIS WORLD,
AND THAT OTHER,
ASK A MAN OF MERCY AND SINCERITY.
 
A MONK ASKS MASTER PAI-CHANG,
"WHO IS THE BUDDHA?"
PAI-CHANG ANSWERS,
"WHO ARE YOU?"

WHATEVER RUNS COUNTER
TO THE MIND AND WILL OF ORDINARY PEOPLE
HINDERS THE LAW OF MEN
AND THE LAW OF BUDDHA.
 
I WOULD LIKE
TO OFFER YOU SOMETHING,
BUT IN THE DARUMA SECT
WE HAVE NOTHING AT ALL.
 
AS IKKYU DOES NOT THINK OF HIS BODY
AS IF IT WERE HIS BODY,
HE LIVES IN THE SAME PLACE,
WHETHER IT IS TOWN OR COUNTRY.
 
THE MIND OF MAN IS WITHOUT SOUND,
WITHOUT ODOUR;
HE WHO ANSWERS WHEN CALLED
IS NOTHING BUT A THIEF.
 
IF WE SAY "THERE IS,"
PEOPLE THINK "THERE IS";
BUT THOUGH IT ANSWERS,
IT IS NOT,
THIS MOUNTAIN ECHO.
 
IF WE SAY, "THERE IS NOT,"
PEOPLE THINK "THERE IS NOT,"
THOUGH IT ANSWERS,
THE MOUNTAIN ECHO.
 

MORE FRAIL AND ILLUSORY
THAN NUMBERS WRITTEN ON WATER,
OUR SEEKING FROM THE BUDDHA
FELICITY IN THE AFTER-WORLD.
 
ALREADY, OVER THE HEART
NOT A CLOUD IS HANGING,
AND NO MOUNTAIN IS THERE
FOR THE MOON TO HIDE BEHIND.
 
IN OUR WAY THROUGH THIS WORLD
OF BIRTH AND DEATH,
WE HAVE NO COMPANION;
LONELY WE DIE,
ALONE WE ARE BORN.
 
THE VAST FLOOD
ROLLS ONWARD
BUT YIELD YOURSELF,
AND IT FLOATS YOU UPON IT.
 
WHO SEES NAUGHT,
SAYS NAUGHT,
HEARS NAUGHT,
SIMPLY SURPASSES
THE BUDDHA.

ON THE SEA OF DEATH AND LIFE,
THE DIVER'S BOAT IS FREIGHTED
WITH "IS" AND "IS NOT".
BUT IF THE BOTTOM IS BROKEN THROUGH,
"IS AND "IS NOT" DISAPPEAR.
 
THE MIND CANNOT BECOME THE BUDDHA;
THE BODY CANNOT BECOME THE BUDDHA;
ONLY WHAT CANNOT BECOME THE BUDDHA
CAN BECOME THE BUDDHA.
 
AS LIGHTNING
WHICH DISAPPEARS LIKE DEW,
WHICH VANISHES LIKE A PHANTOM --
THUS THINK OF YOURSELF.
 
A MIND TO SEARCH ELSEWHERE
FOR THE BUDDHA
IS THE FOOLISHNESS
IN THE VERY CENTER OF FOOLISHNESS.
 
THE DEW ON THE LOTUS LEAF
UNDYED BY ITS COLOUR,
JUST AS IT IS,
IS THE REAL FORM OF BUDDHA.

THE MIND WHICH IS UNATTACHED
TO ALL THINGS IN THE WORLD,
DOES NOT THINK, DOES NOT FEEL,
IS FLUID AND FLEXIBLE.
 
ALL BUDDHAS AND BODHISATTVAS
ACHIEVE BUDDHAHOOD AND NIRVANA
AS A RESULT
OF THE MERCIFUL VOW.
 
THE BUDDHA-NATURE
MEANS NON-BIRTH, NON-EXTINCTION;
THEN KNOW THAT ILLUSION
IS BIRTH, DEATH, REINCARNATION.
 
THOUGH YOU PRACTISE VIRTUE,
DO NOT GRIEVE THAT MISFORTUNE ARISES;
THE GUILTY KARMA
OF THE PREVIOUS WORLD
IS VANISHING AWAY.
 
WHEN THEY ARE NOT TWO THINGS,
THEY ARE NOT ONE THING,
AND THE WIND
IN THE INDIAN-INK PICTURE
IS COOL INDEED.
 
WHY ARE PEOPLE CALLED BUDDHAS
AFTER THEY DIE?
BECAUSE THEY DON'T GRUMBLE ANY MORE,
BECAUSE THEY DON'T MAKE A NUISANCE
OF THEMSELVES ANY MORE.
 

THE MOON IS THE HOUSE,
THE MIND IS THE MASTER IN IT:
WHEN WE UNDERSTAND THIS,
IT IS ONLY A TRANSITORY WORLD
WE LIVE IN HERE.
 
DEEPLY THINKING OF IT,
I AND OTHER PEOPLE --
THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE,
AS THERE IS NO MIND
BEYOND THIS MIND.
 
EVERY SPRING WHEN YOU SEE
THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOOM,
FEEL WITH PAIN
THE BREVITY OF YOUR LIFE!
 
THE ORIGINAL MAN
MUST RETURN TO HIS ORIGINAL PLACE;
WHY SEEK THEN
THE NEEDLESS BUDDHA?
 
THE MORNING DEW
FLEES AWAY,
AND IS NO MORE;
WHO MAY REMAIN
IN THIS WORLD OF OURS?
 
WE PRAY FOR OUR LIFE OF TOMORROW,
EPHEMERAL LIFE THOUGH IT MAY BE;
THIS IS THE HABIT OF OUR MIND
THAT PASSED AWAY YESTERDAY.
 
DO NOT TAKE IT TO HEART;
THE REAL WAY
IS ONE, ITSELF AS IT IS;
THERE ARE NOT TWO, OR THREE.