Hanshan

Among a thousand clouds and ten thousand streams,
Here lives an idle man,
In the daytime wandering over green mountains,
At night coming home to sleep by the cliff.
Swiftly springs and autumns pass,
But my mind is at peace, clear and free.
By now I need nothing to lean on,
To be still as the waters of the autumn river!

Hanshan (c.730? – c.850?) was a legendary figure associated with a collection of poems from the Chinese Tang Dynasty in the Taoist and Chan tradition. No one knows who he was, or when he lived and died. In the Buddhist tradition, Hanshan and his sidekick Shide are honored as emanations of the bodhisattvas Mañjuśrī and Samantabhadra, respectively. In Japanese and Chinese paintings, Hanshan is often depicted together with Shide or with Fenggan, another monk with legendary attributes.

Quotes

• Once, my back wedded to the solid cliff,
  I sat silently, bathed in the full moon's light.

  I counted there ten thousand shapes,
  None with substance save the moon's own glow.

  The pristine mind is empty as the moon,
  I thought, and like the moon, freely shines.

  By what I knew of moon I knew the mind,
  Each mirror to each, profound as stone.

  • Encounters With Cold Mountain, tr. Peter Stambler (Foreign Languages Press, Beijing, 1996)

• All the people in the Kuo-ch'ing monastery—
  They say, "Han-shan is an idiot."
  "Am I really an idiot:" I reflect.
  But my reflections fail to solve the question:
  for I myself do not know who the self is,
  And how can others know who I am?
  • Translated by D. T. Suzuki^{[citation needed]}
  • Note: This poem, translated by D. T. Suzuki, is not a complete Han-shan poem. It is lines 3–8 of a 14 line poem, numbered 271 by Red Pine.

Cold Mountain Transcendental Poetry

Cold Mountain Transcendental Poetry by the T'ang Zen poet, Han-shan (2005, 2011), tr. Wandering Poet, ISBN 978-0-6151-6006-1 ISBN 0615160069 LOC Number 2007937840

• There is a Precious Mountain
  Even the Seven Treasures cannot compare
  A cold moon rises through the pines
  Layer upon layer of bright clouds
  How many towering peaks?
  How many wandering miles?
  The valley streams run clear
  Happiness forever!

• Among a thousand clouds and ten thousand streams
  Here lives an idle man
  In the daytime wandering over green mountains
  At night coming home to sleep by the cliff
  Swiftly springs and autumns pass
  But my mind is at peace, clear and free
  By now I need nothing to lean on
  To be still as the waters of the autumn river

• I dreamed a place where I have come to dwell
  Cold Mountain says it all
  Monkeys scream, the valley fog is cold
  My door blends with the color of the peaks
  I gather leaves and thatch a hut among the pines
  Dig a pond and lead a trickle from the brook
  Long ago I left the world behind
  Eating ferns I pass the years in peace

• Cold Mountain is hidden in white clouds
  It's peaceful to be cut off from the busy world
  I use dry grass for cushions in my mountain home
  My only light is the round moon
  My bed is the rock beside the green pool
  Tigers and deer are my companions
  I delight in this happy peaceful life
  Forever beyond the world of men

• I settled at Cold Mountain long ago
  Already it seems like ages
  Wandering free I roam the woods and streams
  Lingering to watch things be themselves
  Men don't come this far into the mountains
  Where white clouds gather and billow
  Dry grass makes a comfortable mattress
  The blue sky is a fine quilt
  Happy to pillow my head on the rock
  I leave heaven and earth to endless change

• Today I sat before the cliff
  Until the mist and rainbows disappeared
  I followed the emerald stream
  Explored a thousand tiers of green cliffs
  In the morning my spirit rests among white clouds
  At night a bright moon floats in the sky
  I am free of the busy world
  There is not a doubt in my heart or a worry to disturb my mind

• When you live on Cold Mountain long enough the autumns pass quickly
  When you live alone you have no worries
  When you leave the doors open no one bothers you
  The bubbling stream runs forever
  In the cave a clay pot boils over a fire on the ground
  A wandering breeze stirs the fragrant pines
  When hungry I eat one simple meal
  And lean against the rock in complete harmony

• I'm happy in the every day Way
  Among the mist and vines and caves
  The wilderness is boundless
  My companions are lazy white clouds
  There are roads but they do not reach the world
  My mind has come to rest and nothing can stir my thought
  On a bed of rock I sit alone in the night
  While a round moon climbs up Cold Mountain

• I love the joy of mountains
  Wandering free with no concerns
  Every day I find food for this old body
  There's leisure for thinking, nothing to do
  Often I carry an ancient book
  Sometimes I climb a rock pavilion
  To look down a thousand foot precipice
  Overhead are swirling clouds
  A cold moon chilly cold
  My body feels like a flying crane

• Tier on tier of beautiful mountains and streams
  Blue green vistas locked in white clouds
  The mist makes my bandana wet
  Dew coats my grass cape
  My feet climb in straw sandals
  My hand holds an old wooden stick
  When I gaze down again on the dusty world
  It has become a land of phantoms and dreams to me

• How wonderful is Cold Mountain
  Climbers are all afraid
  The moon shines on clear water twinkle twinkle
  Wind rustles the tall grass
  Plum trees flower in the snow
  Bare twisted trees have clouds for foliage
  A touch of rain brings it all alive
  Unless you see clearly do not approach

• Climb the steep Cold Mountain way
  Roads to Cold Mountain are many and never ending
  The valleys are long and deep, the peaks piled high
  The streams are wide, the grass is thick
  The moss is slippery though there is no rain
  The pines sigh though there is no wind
  Who can escape the snares of the world
  And come to sit with me among the white clouds?

• Since I retired to Cold Mountain
  I've lived by eating mountain fruits
  What is there to worry about?
  Life passes according to karma
  The months pass like a flowing stream
  Days and nights like sparks from flint
  Heaven and earth endlessly change
  While I sit happily among these cliffs

• People ask the way to Cold Mountain
  Roads do not go through
  Summer arrives yet the ice has not melted
  Though the sun is out it's foggy and dim
  How did I arrive here?
  My mind and yours are not the same
  When our minds are one
  You will be here too

• When people look for the road in the clouds
  The cloud road disappears
  The mountains are tall and steep
  The streams are wide and still
  Green mountains ahead and behind
  White clouds to east and west
  If you want to find the cloud road
  Seek it within

Note: The following three poems are examples of Han-shan's three word per line poems. They are literal translations, word for word, and illustrate a simple childlike side of the old poet:

• Tiers of mountains
  Cold wind feet
  Not need fan
  Ice cold through
  Moon shines bright
  Mist covers everything
  Sit all alone
  One old man

• Cold Mountain cold
  Ice freezes rock
  Mountains are green
  Snow is white
  Sun shines bright
  Every thing melt
  Every thing warm
  Warms old man

• Cold Mountain Son
  Forever not change
  I live alone
  Beyond life death

Note: The following two playful five word per line poems are also literal translations.

• Often sit alone happy happy
  Thoughts somewhat far gone gone
  Clouds circle mountain soft soft
  Wind through valley swish swish
  Ape in tree bounce bounce
  Bird in forest chirp chirp
  Time turns hair gray gray
  Winter is here sad sad

• Remote remote Cold Mountain road
  Cold cold ice cold cliff
  Chirp chirp often many birds
  Lone lone no sign people
  Swish swish wind blow face
  Gentle gentle snow settle head
  Day day no see sun
  Year year no see spring

• Someone sits in a mountain vale
  A robe of clouds, rainbows for tassels
  The fragrant forest is the place to live
  The road has been long and difficult
  With a heart full of doubt and regret
  A life has passed and nothing has been accomplished
  Others call it failure
  I stand alone devoted to this Cold Mountain life

• If you want a peaceful place to dwell
  Cold Mountain is guaranteed forever
  A light wind blows softly in the pines
  The sound is good when you are close
  One old man sits beneath the trees
  Reading Lao Tzu and Huang Ti, mumbling
  I could not find the world if I searched ten years
  I've forgotten the road by which I came
  • Variant, lines 5–8:
    • Under a tree I'm reading
      Lao-tzu, quietly perusing.
      Ten years not returning,
      I forgot the way I had come.
      • Translated by Katsuki Sekida^{[citation needed]}

• The higher the trail the steeper it grows
  Ten thousand tiers of dangerous cliffs
  The stone bridge is slippery with green moss
  Cloud after cloud keeps flying by
  Waterfalls hang like ribbons of silk
  The moon shines down on the bright pool
  I climb the highest peak once more
  To wait where the lone crane flies

• I sit cross-legged on the rock
  The valleys and streams are cold and damp
  Sitting quietly is beautiful
  The cliffs are lost in mist and fog
  I rest happily in this place
  At dusk the tree shadows are low
  I look into my mind
  A white lotus emerges from the dark mud

• Old and sick, more than one hundred years
  Face haggard, hair white, I'm happy to still live in the mountains
  A cloth covered phantom watching the years flow by
  Why envy people with clever ways of living?

• Do I have a body? Or have I none?
  Am I who I am? Or am I not?
  Pondering these questions, I sit
  Leaning against the cliff while the years go by
  And the green grass grows up between my feet
  And the red dust settles on my head
  Then men of the world come and thinking me dead
  Bring offerings of wine and fruit

• If your house has Cold Mountain poems
  They are better for you than sutras
  Hang them up where you can see them
  Read them and read them again

Cold Mountain: 100 Poems by the T'ang Poet Han-shan

Cold Mountain: 100 Poems by the T'ang Poet Han-shan (1970), tr. Burton Watson, Columbia University Press, ISBN 0-231-03450-4.

• I divined and chose a distant place to dwell
  T'ien T'ai: what more is there to say?
  Monkeys cry where valley mists are cold
  My grass gate blends with the color of the crags
  I pick leaves to thatch a hut among the pines
  Scoop out a pond and lead a runnel from the spring
  By now I am used to doing without the world
  Picking ferns I pass the years that are left

• As for me, I delight in the every day 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 a round moon climbs up Cold Mountain

• Story on Story of wonderful hills and streams
  Their blue-green haze locked in clouds!
  Mists brush my thin cap with moisture
  Dew wets my coat of plaited straw
  On my feet I wear pilgrim's sandals
  My hand holds a stick of old rattan
  Though I look down again on the dusty world
  What is that land of dreams to me?

• 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!

• 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.

• If you're looking for a place to rest
  Cold Mountain is good for a long stay
  The breeze blowing through the dark pines
  Sounds better the closer you come
  And under the trees a white haired man
  Mumbles over his Taoist texts
  Ten years now he hasn't gone home
  He's even forgotten the road he came by

• Do you have the poems of Han-shan in your house?
  They're better for you than sutra reading!
  Write them out and paste them on a screen
  Where you can glance over them from time to time

Disputed

• Worry for others— it does no good in the end.
  The great Dao, all amid joy, is reborn.
  In a joyous state, ruler and subject accord,
  In a joyous home, father and son get along.
  If brothers increase their joy, the world will flourish.
  If husband and wife have joy, it's worthy of song.
  What guest and host can bear a lack of joy?
  Both high and low, in joy, lose their woe before long.
  Ha ha ha.
  • Translated by Mary Jacob^{[citation needed]}
  • Note: It is unlikely that this poem, translated by Mary Jacob, is authored by Han-shan. In comparing it with every poem in the corpus it will be found that there is not a close match. Moreover, neither the language nor the content of this poem is that of Han-shan. Most importantly, this poem does not have the appropriate number of lines for a Han-shan poem. Jacob's poem has 9 lines; there is not a single example of a 9 line poem in all of Han-shan's poetry. All of Han-shan's poems are 4, 8, 10 or 14 lines, with a few that have more than 14. Further, Jacob's poem has an odd number of lines; there is not a single example of a poem with an odd number of lines in all of Han-shan's poetry. Finally, the 9th and final line in Jacob's poem has the words “ha ha ha.” Not a single Han-shan poem has those words as a final line. Perhaps someone is having a joke?