My home was at Cold Mountain from the start,
Rambling among the hills, far from trouble.
 

Gone, and a million things leave no trace
Loosed, and it flows through galaxies
 A fountain of light, into the very mind -
Not a thing, and yet it appears before me:
Now I know the pearl of the Buddha nature
Know its use: a boundless perfect sphere.


When men see Han-shan
They all say he's crazy
And not much to look at -
Dressed in rags and hides.
They don't get what I say
And I don't talk their language.
All I can say to those I meet:
"Try and make it to Cold Mountain."
















http://www.hermetica.info/hanshan.htm