We sit in the courtyard under an ancient tree

Two people, two cushions, and a Buddha statue…

Jing Xian, a teacher at Qixia Mountain Branch of the Chinese Buddhist Academy, shares his poetry

Master Jing Xian is a teacher at Qixia Mountain Branch of the Chinese Buddhist Academy, Editor-in-Chief of Mojingtai (Mirror-Grinding Platform) of Hunan Nanyue Buddhist Association, Editor-in-Chief of international magazine Wordy Seon,and Vice President of Zhejiang East Buddhist Culture Research Institute. He holds a Master’s degree in Philosophy from Renmin University of China. He has published over 100 poems, essays, and academic papers. he has participated in compiling and editing more than ten works, including Ten Years Grinding a Mirror (Religious Culture Press, 2020), History of Nanyue Buddhism (Religious Culture Press, 2021), and Lineage of the Nanshan School.

静贤，中国佛学院栖霞山分院教

师，湖南南岳佛教协会《磨镜台》主编、国际期刊《文字禅》主编，浙江省浙东佛教文化研究院副院长，中国人民大学哲学硕士。曾发表诗歌、散文、论文百余篇（首）；参与整理、主编《十年磨一镜》（宗教文化出版社，2020年)、《南岳佛教史》（宗教文化出版社，2021年)及《南山宗统》等著作十余部。

You and I

We sit in the courtyard under an ancient tree

Two people, two cushions, and a Buddha statue

From the mountains, stray cats meow and dogs bark now and then

The wind moves the banners,

And grass and trees dance

You and I, quietly discussing conversion

Exploring the subtle meanings in the vast sea of Dharma

We sit on cushions, on the earth of Saha in China,

Yet also in another world beyond this form.

***

你和我

我们坐在古树下的院子里

两个人，两个蒲团，和一尊佛像

山里不时传来流浪的猫叫，犬吠

风吹幡动，草木飘舞

你和我，安静地谈论着皈依

探寻法海真源里的微妙义理

我们坐在蒲团上，坐在娑婆中的神州大地

同时也坐在这种形式之外的另一个世界

***

The Years Pass Slowly

An empty mountain, a small temple, a babbling stream

For long periods, no one comes in sight

Only wind and cicadas’ songs are heard

If you’re used to city life,

It’s hard to adapt to this mountain scene

 

Perhaps life’s been too easy lately, 

I suddenly recall Camus’ words: 

We need no one walking ahead

No leading, nor following behind

Nor even walking side by side

Solitary, unrestrained souls 

Can both unite and gaze afar

***

岁月慢得很

山空，寺小，流水潺潺

岁月慢得很，长时间不见有人

只听见风声和蝉鸣

你要在城市待惯了，到此山中来

难免有些不适应

或许近来太安逸了，意外想起加缪

他说不需要有人走在前面，我们不要被引领

也不需要有人走在后面，我们不要被追随

我们甚至不需要并肩同行

孤独不羁的灵魂既可以联手，也可以遥望

***

In the Empty Mountain, Listening to Rain

Newborn puppies huddle for warmth in the autumn rain

The mountain wind blows fiercely and unceasingly

A small temple nestled in the mountain hollow

Stands alone, guarding the void

 

Having recited the Ksitigarbha Sutra

My mind is at peace, able to hear the breath of the other shore

As night falls, the prayer flags before the door

Rattle in the wind, proclaiming the coming of autumn

 

In the layers of night’s curtains

Raindrops are filled with Zen meaning, pure and selfless

At this moment, undisturbed

It is time to strike the evening bell

***

空山听雨

刚出生的小狗在秋雨里抱团取暖

山风勇猛精进地吹

栖身在空山坳里的小庙

兀自守着虚空

 

诵完《地藏经》

心神很安宁，可以聆听彼岸的呼吸

夜黑了，门前的经幡因风作响

呐喊着天气晚来秋

 

在重重帘幕的夜色里

雨珠挂满了禅意，纯粹而无私

此刻没有人打扰

该敲晚钟了

[Translator: Ma Yongbo]

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Read: Gazing at Stars – Poetry from China