c. 750 / China

Even Shepherd Boys Know the Dao

Tags:: contemplation,; know your Dao,; poetry,; Wang Wei

Creeks and summits are brilliant at sunset.
I laze in a boat, my way in the wind’s hands.

Watching wild landscapes I forget distance
and come to the water’s edge.

Gazing at lovely far woods and clouds
I guess I’ve lost my way.

How could I know this lucid stream
would turn, leading me into mountains?

I abandon my boat, pick up a light staff
and come upon something wonderful,

four or five old monks in contemplation,
enjoying the shade of pines and cypresses.

Before the forest dawns they read Sanskrit.
Their nightly meditation quiets the peaks.

Here even shepherd boys know the Dao.
Woodcutters bring in worldly news.

They sleep at night in the woods
with incense, on mats clean as jade.

Their robes are steeped in valley fragrances;
the stone cliffs shine under a mountain moon.

I fear I will lose this refuge forever
so at daybreak I fix it in my mind.

People of Peach Tree Spring, goodbye.
I’ll be back when flowers turn red.

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Published In

Religion

About the Author

Wang Wei, an untitled poem. A critic writing more than three hundred years after Wang Wei’s death remarked, “Taste Wang Wei’s poetry—there are paintings in it; look at his paintings—they are full of poetry.” Wang Wei began his long government career working for the Imperial Directorate of Music. Later in life, he spent increasing stretches of time in the hills around his country estate, studying Buddhism and conversing with monks.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom the emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead—his eyes are closed. The insight into the mystery of life, coupled though it be with fear, has also given rise to religion. To know what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty, which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitive forms—this knowledge, this feeling is at the center of true religiousness.