Chinese Poetry, Poetry

Shitou’s Song of the Grass-Roof Hermitage

Shitou – known as Sekito Kisen in Japanese – was an 8th century Chinese monk, a student of Huineng and Huineng’s successor, Qingyuan Xingsi (Seigen Gyoshi). He is credited with writing two of the most famous Zen poems in China – the Sandokai and this, the Song of the Grass Roof Hermitage. The beauty of this poem lies in its humanity and its emphasis on the simplicity of practice – the grass roof hermitage is not a grand temple building inhabited by clergy, but a small, modest dwelling that could be constructed by anyone, and meditation itself is a matter of turning the light around to shine within and just returning.

 

Song of the Grass-Roof Hermitage

I’ve built a grass hut where there’s nothing of value.
After eating, I relax and enjoy a nap.
When it was completed, fresh weeds appeared.
Now it’s been lived in – covered by weeds.

The person in the hut lives here calmly,
Not stuck to inside, outside, or in between.
Places worldly people live, he doesn’t live.
Realms worldly people love, he doesn’t love.

Though the hut is small, it includes the entire world.
In ten square feet, an old man illumines forms and their nature.
A Great Vehicle bodhisattva trusts without doubt.
The middling or lowly can’t help wondering;
Will this hut perish or not?

Perishable or not, the original master is present,
not dwelling south or north, east or west.
Firmly based on steadiness, it can’t be surpassed.
A shining window below the green pines —
Jade palaces or vermilion towers can’t compare with it.

Just sitting with head covered, all things are at rest.
Thus, this mountain monk doesn’t understand at all.
Living here he no longer works to get free.
Who would proudly arrange seats, trying to entice guests?

Turn around the light to shine within, then just return.
The vast inconceivable source can’t be faced or turned away from.
Meet the ancestral teachers, be familiar with their instruction,
Bind grasses to build a hut, and don’t give up.

Let go of hundreds of years and relax completely.
Open your hands and walk, innocent.
Thousands of words, myriad interpretations,
Are only to free you from obstructions.
If you want to know the undying person in the hut,
Don’t separate from this skin bag here and now.

 

Shitou Xiqian (700-790) translated by Dan Leighton and Kaz Tanahashi
From Inside the Grass Hut: Living Shitou’s Classic Zen Poem

 

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