I am the son of the Blessed one, born from his own mouth
Be for yourself
your own light,
your only refuge.
The beauties transform themselves in clouds and rain The river of the passion of love is deep A hooker and me, A zen practitioner, Are singing on the top of a tower.
When the discriminating thoughts are forgotten, it is like the white panache of the weeds shining on the snow.
The way is round, perfect as the vast world Without any notion of lack or superfluous. In reality because we want to choose or reject We are not free
Turn your light inside and make a half-turn, The infinite and inconceivable source can neither be faced nor avoided Meet the ancient masters and be intimate with their teaching. Tie up the grass to build a hut and never give up.
The universe is nothing else
than the testimony of a unique dharma.
What we see with forms
is only the reflection of our mind.
The mind does not exist in itself.
Its existence reveals itself
through the forms.
The abused mind
turns around the lotus
The awakened mind
makes the lotus
turn around him.
A day without working,
a day without eating
If after five, ten, twenty years of practice you do not reach the awakening Then cut my head and make an urinal with my skull.
-Have you eaten your rice soup? -Yes -So, go and clean your bowl
During seventy years my sins Filled up the entire universe I brought this body up to the highest It goes now back down to hell Oh! I have nothing to say About life and death.
The way transmitted to the West I transmitted to the East Fishing for the moon Ploughing the clouds I gathered the ancient savor.
It is a single and same light Which harmonizes in one whole People of satori and people of illusion.
In the vertical contact The three worlds become a single instant In the horizontal contact The directions exist facing our eyes
In this living world The body that I abandon to the fire Would be miserableIf I would see in myself anything else Except wood to be burned.
What would I leave as memory? The flowers in the spring, The cuckoo in the summer, The maple leaves in the fall.
How can he smile so happy? Do not compare him to the others; His social manners are not from this world His happiness comes from his own nature.