amra@ihuxj.UUCP (Steven L. Aldrich) (11/09/84)
For those who are interested in Zen Buddhist beliefs, here are the
"Ten Oxherding Verses". This version was compiled in the 12th century
by a Japanese Buddhist monk. Earlier versions of this material exist,
but I am not familiar with these works. For your enjoyment, here they
are. I am interested to hear your commments on this material. Either
send me EMAIL or Post to this net-group. Thanks in advance for your
time and effort.
The Oxherding Verses Begin After This Line........
1) Desolate through forests and fearful in jungles,
he is seeking an Ox which he does not find.
Up and down dark, nameless, wide flowing rivers,
in deep mountain thickets he treads many bypaths.
Bone tired, heart-weary, he carries on his search
for this something which he yet cannot find.
At evening he hears cicadas chirping in the trees.
2) Innumerable footprints has he seen
in the forest and along the water's edge.
Over yonder does he see the trampled grass?
Even the deepest gorges of the topmost mountains
can't hide this Ox's nose which reaches right into heaven.
3) A nightingale warbles on a twig,
the sun shines on undulating willows.
There stands the Ox, where could he hide?
That splendid head, those stately horns,
what artist could portray them.
4) He must tightly grasp the rope and not let go,
for the Ox still has unhealthy tendancies.
Now he charges up to the highlands,
now he loiters in a misty ravine.
5) He must hold the nose rope tight and not allow the OX to roam,
lest off to muddy haunts it should stray.
Properly tended, it becomes clean and gentle.
Untethered, it willingly follows its master.
6) Riding free as air, he buoyantly comes home,
through evening mists in wide straw-hat and cape.
Wherever he may go he creates a fresh breeze,
while in his heart profound tranquility prevails.
This Ox requires not a blade of grass.
7) Only on the Ox was he able to come home,
but lo, the Ox is now vanished, and alone and serene,
sits the man.
The red sun rides high in the sky
as he dreams on placidly.
Yonder beneath the thatched roof
his idle whip and idle rope are lying.
8) Whip, rope, Ox and man alike belong to Emptiness.
So vast and infinate the azure sky
that no concept of any sort can reach it.
Over a blazing fire a snowflake cannot survive.
When this state of mind is realized
comes at last comprehension
of the spirit of the ancient patriarchs.
9) He has returned to the Origin, come back to the Source,
but his steps have been taken in vain.
It is as though he were now blind and deaf.
Seated in his hut, he hankers not for things outside.
Streams meander on of themselves,
red flowers naturally bloom red.
10) Barechested, barefooted, he comes into the marketplace.
Muddied and dust-covered, he broadly grins!
Without recourse to mystic powers,
withered trees he swiftly brings to bloom.
Well, I hope this has been somewhat "enlightening" { :-) } for
some of you. I'd like to hear your opinions/views.
Peace & Best Wishes,
From The Resident Zen-Baptist:
Steve Aldrich (ihnp4!ihuxj!amra)
"A Small Voice in a Large Wilderness!"