Sun Chuo
(314-371)
(Translated by David Knechtges, Wen xuan, or Selections of Refined Literature, Volume 2, [Princeton University Press, 1987] pp. 243-253.)
I
The Celestial Terrace Mountains indeed are the divine
eminence of all mounts and peaks. Cross the sea and there will be Fangzhang and
Penglai. Climb the plateaus and there will be the Four Luminaries and Celestial
Terrarce. All are places where mystic sages roam and transform themselves,
sites of the grotto dwellings of sacred immortals. In their form of towering
pinnacles, and the goodliness of their fair omens, they possess all the
precious wealth of mountains and seas, contain the grandest beauty of man or
god. As for the reasons they are not ranked among the Five Peaks, and lack a
notice in the standard canons, could it be because the place they stand is dark
and obscure, and the road to them secluded and remote? Or is it because they
cast their shadows into the layered depths, or hide their peaks among a
thousand ranges? One begins by traversing the paths of sprites and goblins, and
ends by treading a realm devoid of men. In the whole world there are few who
can ascend or scale them, and among the kings, none has observed devout
offering there. Thus, accounts about them are omitted from ordinary documents,
and their name is signaled only in exotic records. Yet, the flourishing of
charts and illustrations, how could this be fanciful? If one is not a man who
abandons the world to “play with the Tao,” who shuns grains to dine on
mushrooms, how can he levitate in order to dwell in them? Unless one “confers
himself afar” and “darkly explores,” steadfastly and sincerely communes with
the gods, how dare he presume to preserve them in distant imaginings? The
reason I gallop my spirit and turn my thoughts over and over, sing by day and
rise at night, is that in the space of a nod, it seems I have already ascended
them twice. Now I shall release my ropes and bonds, and forever entrust myself
to these peaks. Being unable to bear the extremes of recitation aloud and
silent thought, I shall resort to literary elegance to dispel my feeling:
II
The Grand
Void, vast and wide, unhindered,
Propels
sublime Existence, which is naturally so.
Melting, it
forms rivers and waterways;
Coalescing,
it forms mountains and hills.
Ah, the wondrous
protrusion of Terrace Peaks,
Verily
things upheld by the gods!
Sheltered
by the Oxherd, which illumines their crests,
Resting
upon numinous Yue, which squares their base,
They set
roots broader than those of Hua and Dai,
Point straight
up, taller than the Jiuyi.
They match
“the counterpart of Heaven” of the “Tang Canon,”
Equal the
“towering pinnacle” of the “Zhou Odes.”
III
So far is
that trackless realm,
So dark and
deep, secluded and sequestered,
Men of
shallow knowledge, because of their guarded vision,
do
not go there;
And or
those who go, because the path is cut, none knows it well.
Scorning
the summer insect for doubting ice,
I preen my
light wings longing to soar.
No Noumenon
is so obscure to remain ever unmanifest;
By
unfolding their dual wonders they show their auspice:
Scarlet
Wall, rising like rosy clouds, stands as a guidepost;
The
Cascade, spraying and flowing, delimits the way.
IV
Seeing
these numinous signs, I resolve to go on;
Suddenly I
begin to move.
I meet
plumed men on Cinnabar Hill,
Search for
the blessed chambers of immonality.
As long as
the Terrace range can be scaled,
Why yearn
for the Storied City?
Released
from the constant cravings of the “realm-within,”
Cheered by
the exalted feeling of transcendency,
I don wooly
homespun, all furry and fleecy,
Wield a
metal staff, jingling and jangling.
I push
through a murky mass of wild thickets,
Scale the
soaring steepness of scarps and cliffs,
Ford You
Stream and straightway advance,
Cross the
Five Boundaries and swiftly push on.
Straddling
the vaulted Hanging Ledge,
I look down
into absolute darkness, a myriad fathoms below.
I tread
slippery stones covered with moss,
Cling to
Azure Screen that wall-like stands,
Grasp the
long fig creepers on bending trees,
Snatch
flying stalks of trailing grape.
Though once
imperiled at the brink,
I shall
exist forever in eternal life.
As long as
I steadfastly plight my faith to the Hidden Darkness,
I can tread
the layered steepness and find it smooth.
V
Once I
successfully scale the nine switchbacks,
I find the
road straight and smooth, long and clear.
I indulge
in the vast clarity of mind and eye,
Give free
rein to the relaxed ease of slowly pacing.
Spreading
tender grasses, lush and luxuriant,
Shaded by
tall pines, stalwart and stately,
I view the
graceful gliding of soaring simurghs,
Hear the
concordant chorusing of singing phoenixes.
Once I
cross the Numinous Stream and wash myself,
I purge
vexatious thoughts from mind and breast,
Cleanse the
residual dust in its whirling flow,
Expel the
haunting gloom of the Five Hindrances.
I pursue
the vanished tracks of Xi and Nong,
Tread the
dark trail of the Two Laos.
VI
I climb up
and down for one night, two nights,
Until I
reach the City of Immortals.
Twin
gateways, thrusting into the clouds, flank the road,
Carnelian
terraces, mid-sky, hang overhead,
Vermilion
pavilions stand lucent and lustrous through the woods,
Jade halls
dimly shine from high nooks.
Rose
clouds, streaked and striped, glide into lattices;
The
dazzling sun fulgently flares through silken filigree.
Eight
Cinnamon, thick and tall, brave the frost;
Five
Polypores, laden with blooms, unfold at dawn.
Gentle
breezes store fragrance in sunny groves,
Sweet
springs bubble and burble from shady moats,
The
Standing Tree erases shadows for a thousand xun,
Gem trees,
glittering and gleaming, hang with pearls.
Wang Qiao,
driving a crane, pierces the sky;
“Correspondents-to-truth,”
their staves flying, tread the void.
Galloping
with the swift speed of spiritual transformation,
Suddenly
they emerge from Existence and enter Non-existence.
VII
And then
When my
sightseeing completes its circuit,
My body is
calm, my heart is at ease.
What “harms
the horses” has been expelled,
Worldly
affairs all are rejected.
Wherever I
cast my blade it is always hollow;
I eye the
ox but not as a whole.
I focus my
thoughts on secluded cliffs,
Clearly
chant by long streams.
Then,
When Xihe
reaches the meridian,
The
coursing vapors are lifted high.
Dharma
drums, booming, spread their sounds;
Various
incenses fragrantly waft their fumes.
Now we
shall pay our respects to the Celestially-venerated,
And
assemble the immorral hosts.
I ladle the
black jade oil,
Rinse my
mouth in Floriate Pond springs.
Inspired by
the doctrine of “beyond images,”
Illumined
by the texts on “non-origination,”
I become
aware that I have not completely dismissed Existence,
And realize
that there are interruptions in the passage to Non-existence.
I destroy
Form and Emptiness, blending them into one;
Suddenly I
proceed to Existence where I attain the Mystery.
I release
the two names that come from a common source,
Dissolve
the Three Banners to a single Non-existence.
All day
long giving oneself to conversation’s delights,
Is the same
as the still silence of not speaking.
I merge the
myriad phenomena in mystic contemplation,
Unconciously
join my body with the Naturally-so.
No comments:
Post a Comment