Meditating in Moonlight (by Han Shan)

I first took note of this Han Shan poem thanks to a Twitter posting by @EstherHawdon.  What caught my eye was the first stanza, which struck me as unusual for Tang poetry, going beyond the typical Yin-Yang cosmology as a way of describing the workings of celestial light.  But as @EstherHawdon pointed out to me, the Chinese astronomer Zhang Heng (AD 78-139) had been a very early propounder of the theory that the moon borrows its light from the sun.

In any case, notable as the first stanza is, I find the second stanza even more remarkable -- Han Shan's own unique observations about indirect illumination - how the sun lights the moon and the moon itself provides illumination for the poet's own soul.

Meditating in front

Of a rocky cliff under the

Glow of the full moon

It's brilliant as day time

Everything casts a shadow

But without inherent light

The spirit is a vast void

Naturally clear

Emptiness contained

Such as in the depths

Of a mysterious cave

The same cause that makes

The moon visible makes

The moon a pivot on which

The heart's yearning turns

Hearing the Midnight Bell (JiaoRan)

 An ancient temple

Atop Cold Mountain

A distant bell

Borne by a fair breeze

The toll lingers

The moon drifts through the trees

Until the last echo expires

A fine rime of frost

Descends from the sky

It's nighttime forever

Meditating at first watch

Deep amid this frame of mind

Enthralled

Autumn Comes Anew, a poem sent to Magistrate Lu

 

The ancients studied the past

Hoping to gain perspective

And moderate their passions

To sit beside smoke and fire

Controlling their breath

So my good friend as you look

Upon the clear autumn scene

Up to the empty sky's origin

Where mountains loom as guests

Make no complaint at all and

 Still the sound of string and bow

Only behold the sunset and

The cicadas' rising call 

In the blue green clouds of twilight

Yearning to be reborn

Meditation Poem (by JiaoRan)

Written in the 8th century by the poet and Buddhist monk JiaoRan, this poem has a very contemporary ring to it.  Or maybe it's just that the essence of Buddhist practice hasn't changed too much over the 1300 intervening years.  It's all about standing (or sitting) alone under heaven and earth, studying without movement ...

Ten thousand dharmas

Stream forth from no-gate

One after another until

Wisdom grows faint

Disciples weigh the choices

Open to the novitiate

But standing alone under

Heaven and earth

Is the starting place

Practice is about what exists

Things from the outset

That in stillness persist

The key is to study

Without movement and

Behold the light shining forth

On the origin of all

Ten thousand things