The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse

by Shiwu Qinggong, Stonehouse, Red Pine (Translation)

Winner of the 2015 Washington State Book Award in Poetry Translation " The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse [is] a tough-spirited book of enlightened free verse."— Kyoto Journal The Zen master and mountain hermit Stonehouse—considered one of the greatest Chinese Buddhist poets—used poetry as his medium of instruction. Near the end of his life, monks asked him to record what he found of interest on his mountain; Stonehouse delivered to them hundreds of poems and an "Do not to try singing these poems. Only if you sit on them will they do you any good." Newly revised, with the Chinese originals and Red Pine's abundant commentary and notes, The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse is an essential volume for Zen students, readers of Asian literature, and all who love the outdoors. After eating I dust off a boulder and sleep
and after sleeping I go for a walk
on a cloudy late summer day
an oriole sings from a sapling
briefly enjoying the season
joyfully singing out its heart
true happiness is right here
why chase an empty name Stonehouse was born in 1272 in Changshu, China, and took his name from a cave at the edge of town. He became a highly respected dharma master in the Zen Buddhist tradition. Red Pine is one of the world's leading translators of Chinese poetry. "Every time I translate a book of poems," he writes, "I learn a new way of dancing. And the music has to be Chinese." He lives near Seattle, Washington.

Genres: Poetry, China, Buddhism, Philosophy, Zen, Religion, Fiction

228 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1986

Reviews

[George]

If I was on an island and could have only 3 books with me, this would be one of them--but this version only (rather than the reprint), by sheer force of the handsome production of this book from Empty Bowl Press. Long out of print, this hand-sewn version is remarkable to hold. If you can't spring for a used (rare) copy of this book, at least pick up the reprint, as the poems of Stonehouse are an amazing gift. Red Pine, as always, offers precise and deeply moving translations. I cannot imagine my life without Stonehouse, a little known Zen poet hermit. I ask that you not imagine yours without him too.

[Kevin Trammel]

This is a personal favorite of mine. I bought the original Empty Bowl Press, hand-bound edition in La Conner, Washington, back in 1987, and have carried it with me over the years. I peruse it regularly. It's provided precious direction for me, personally, in my own writing. It softly breathes the scent of pines and cool mountain breezes from its pages. The book is an alive experience, not an esoteric tome of musty old writings. It is a sweet bouquet for the night stand, a friendly companion on the road. I recommend it heartily to anyone who likes poetry or enjoys moving about in the natural world.

[Sean A.]

Fascinating snippets of mountain Zen. Stonehouse writes these as a mountain hermit in the twilight of his life, having retired from the formal Zen order only to become more Zen as he plants his wild garden and lets his white shock of hair grow long. Anti-materialist, anti-money nature poems. Something we could all appreciate. Extremely immediate. Translated successfully by Red Pine.

[Marc Mannheimer]

This Chinese mountain hermit wrote delightful poetry. I was, at first, a little put off by the translator's notes, which most of the time, were as long as the poems. But I read them dutifully, and found them to be highly relevant and also entertaining. Red Pine is as subtly wisecracky as Stonehouse was.

[Pepijn van Duijn]

Stonehouse de Rapper, 1300 AD:

"More than twenty years west of Mount Yen
I’ve never been cheated by a hoe
a garden in spring of new tea and bamboo"

[Mark Robison]

Before bed, I love reading a few poems by ancient Chinese monks sharing their mundane lives alone in the mountains, often complaining about being lonely while also complaining how foolish people are. Come for the wisdom, stay for the melancholy. No translator is better at re-creating their spell than Red Pine.

One note about Red Pine — he does not insert any punctuation, no commas, no periods, just like in the originals. A few excerpts:

* simply let go and worries end
stop to think and cares reappear

*Try to find what’s real and what’s real becomes more distant
try to end delusions and delusions multiply
followers of the Way have an all-embracing place
the moon in the sky and its reflection in the waves

*The moon lights up my door
the wind blows open my robe
sit down on a rock my friend
hear my mountain song
black hair turns to snow
dawn light to evening shade
everything is dew on the grass
nothing stays the same

[Larry Smith]

This collection of fourteenth century poet Stonehouse is a blessing. He writes his Mountain Poems for himself and yet for us all, finding peace in the humble living. Translator Red Pine provides a touching and insightful introduction and commentary along with the Chinese. It's one of those rare books that you know you will come back to and never give away except to someone you love. Stonehouse lived a humble life, moving from the monastery where he taught meditation to the monks, back into the Zen mountain hermitage where he felt most at home and taught us to be at home with our lives. Red Pine proves a brother to Stonehouse and to his readers.

[Raven]

"The paulownia is one of China's most fragrant trees. It blooms in late March and early April and is the only tree on which the phoenix will alight--should a phoenix be flying by."

"chrysanthemums along a fence perfume the dusk/
as soon as a drifting cloud starts to linger/
the wind blows it past the vines."

"A monk's robe is traditionally made of twenty-five patches, one for each of the twenty-five kinds of existence and the twenty-five kinds of understanding that liberates the wearer from such existence."

"bamboo shoots and fiddleheads blanket the slopes/
dust seldom falls on moss-covered ground"

[Steve]

What a treat, what fun to read these, and read the explanations. I learned a bit about Chinese culture and was inspired by the poetry.

[Eadweard]

Grave upon grave buried beneath weeds before their funerals they carried gold seals
but desire is no match for detachment and how can ambition compete with restraint
lured by bait golden fish end up in kettles uncaged magic wings fly high
worldly affairs don't concern a hermit
I weave my robe from homegrown hemp
--------------------


Seclusion of course means far from the world
thick moss deep woods and perfumed plants
the sight of mountains rain or shine
no sounds of a market day or night
I burn dry leaves in my stove to make tea and to patch my old robe I cut a cloud by the cliff
lifetimes seldom fill a hundred years
why suffer chasing profit and fame
--------------------


A hundred years pass by in a flash
how many think this through
if what you're doing right now isn't clear the edge between life and death is sheer stitches on a monk's robe are a loving wife's tears
jade grains of rice are an old farmer's fat don't think who gives receives no reward a fruit forms in time where there is a seed
--------------------


Day after day I let things go
why worry about tomorrow today
the four afflictions are hard to predict wealth and honor don't last
lakeside villas swallowed by vines deserted promenades along the river these are things anyone can see
but no one is willing to consider
--------------------


True emptiness is clear and always present
masked by delusions for reasons we don't know
how could what is real and false exist apart
flowers bloom and flowers fall when the spring wind blows
--------------------


The moon lights up my door
the wind blows open my robe
sit down on a rock my friend
hear my mountain song
black hair turns to snow
dawn light to evening shade
everything is dew on the grass
nothing stays the same

[Marjorie Thelen]

I know I'm getting a collection of my all time favorite books in my reviews but this little volume of poetry translated by Red Pine is exquisite, and I'm not a big fan of poetry. I read over these poems and they have a very calming effect on me. I guess I identify with the poet and the Zen quality of the poetry. I'm a big fan of Red Pine's translations and have four other of his translations. This edition which I have I think is out of print. It is hand bound. Lovely to hold and read.

[Andrew Pish]

I love Red Pine's translations, and I'm forever grateful he found and compiled Stonehouse's poetry. I love the simplicity and subtle depth of Stonehouse's voice, captured eloquently. It was exactly what I wanted to read, slowly, while in quarantine and wondering if the world would ever screw its head back on straight.

[Don Flynn]

My favorite of the Chinese poets so far.

[j e rodriguez]

"...I wear myself out staying alive..."

[Bill Yake]

4. A paper-window hut a hedge of hibiscus
wormwood soup for tea when guests arrive
the poor people I meet are mostly content
rare is the rich man not vain or wasteful
I move my table to read sutras by moonlight
I pick wildflowers to fill my altar vase
everyone says Tushita Heaven is fine
but how can it match this place of mine


128. I eat a peach spit out a pit the pit becomes a tree
the tree grows and flowers and makes another peach
spring departs and fall arrives year after year
how can I keep my hair from turning white

129. My hut isn’t quite ten feet across
surrounded by pines bamboo and mountains
an old monk hardly has room for himself
much less for a visiting cloud

[Nate E]

Excellent translations. Even more excellent, however, is how the volume includes the original Chinese and extensive commentary. (you can compare meanings!) This is great for the student, as this manner of content is hard to find in the US.
Perfect for those interested in the study of Literary Chinese, Zen/Chan Buddhism, or Daoism, even someone looking to get into those topics. The introduction give excellent context, too.

"a clean patch of ground after a rain
an ancient pine half-covered with moss
such things appear before our eyes
but what we do with them isn’t the same" (#99)

Like that poem? Found it even remotely "neat" or went "ahh"? You'll like the book.

[James]

Stonehouse (1272 - 1352) was trained as a Buddhist monk before he become a hermit and poet. His poems confront the same problems we find in contemporary life - too much noise, people full of ambitions - as well as familiar territory for poets and hermits - the natural world, the loneliness and pleasures of solitude. Red Pine says that Stonehouse is one of his favorites for good reason and here he adds commentary in a bilingual edition of the poems. Highly recommended.

[Fran Spellman]

This beautiful book of poems by this 14th century buddhist monk is a treasure to have at bedside (or anywhere). This was a gift I received from my zen teacher and I read and read as w/each poem I reread the words become deeper and deeper: “What’s gone is already gone and what hasn’t come needs no thought, right now I’m writing a right-now line, plums are ripe and gardenias in bloom.”

[Sean]

Really special stuff. going to be returning to this over and over again for sure.

The moon lights up my door
the wind blows open my robe
sit down on a rock my friend
hear my mountain song
black hair turns to snow
dawn light to evening shade
everything is dew on the grass
nothing stays the same

[Dan Wilcox]

Well, I think I will always be reading these poems. I've read all the way through the book, but it is one of my favorite spiritual/poetry texts so I know I will be returning to it frequently.

Should I move it to "Read" or keep it perpetually in "currently-reading"?

[Cooch]

Four and a half stars

There are some moments of true wisdom here. The voice is strong, authentic and consistent throughout. There is some excellent poetry. At times the repetition of ideas can become wearysome and self defeating.

[Valerie]

Stonehouse’s pieces are like miniature depictions of the life he led on the mountain.. simple, beautiful. I wish I could read them as they were originally created, in the language of characters..

[Ton Hof]

https://poezielog.com/tag/stonehouse/

[Gabriel de Belmont]

Contemplative
Masterful
Chinese poetry
Nature
Hermit
Buddhism
Daoism
Self-reflective

[Maya]

short & beautifully written snippets of hermit Zen monk mountain life. Wish this were me rn tbh

[Gijs Limonard]

Loved this; the evanescent quality drips off the poems;

"lifetimes seldom fill a hundred years
why suffer
chasing profit and fame"

"Three or four naps every day
still don’t exhaust all my free time
I walk around the jade bamboo a few times
then hike past the pines
and gaze at far mountains"

"A hundred years slip by unnoticed
eighty-four thousand cares dissolve in stillness
a mountain image shimmers on sunlit water
snowflakes swirl above a glowing stove"

Note: Some Buddhist pundit once counted the number of afflictions to this mortal coil and came up with eighty-four thousand.

[Bread]

delightful. shiwu muses on nature & his hermit life on the zhongnan mountains, cultivating the earth for vegetables, making tea on his little clay stove, & sleeping his days away. he also touches on the delusion & greed of worldly life, impermanence, & non-attachment. a chan buddhist with heavy daoist influences, he prefers the simplicity of everyday life to the excessive study of buddhist koans. you can really see his delights, his pet peeves. the translation & commentary are quite good, red pine adding a warm personal touch

[Gini D'Andrea]

For me, this collection of poems required time to read, study and absorb, generally 2 poems at a time. It has taken me a long time to finish, and sometimes it was necessary to set it aside until I could recommit myself to the concentration and learning I wanted to bring to this work. In Red Pine's preface he says, "If they have fallen into your hands, surely the muses have smiled upon you." Indeed, they have.

[Jenn]

I don't like poetry. These poems were pretty, but for me as a person they're not very evocative, they don't make me stop and think.... I just don't do poetry. I only read this for the BookRiot Read Harder 2021 challenge. No rating because it would be vastly unfair to rate a book that I knew I wouldn't like going in.

[Natasha]

110
No mind in my work the wind blows through the trees
no work in my mind the moon crosses the sky
windsound and moonlight wear away
one layer then another


111
New year head old year tail
tomorrow the fourth today the third
the Way unattained I have grown old in vain
where in the world can I express my shame