Zen Poetry Appreciation — To Learn the Way, One Must First Learn Poverty

Verse

By Chan Master Longya Judun of the Tang Dynasty

To learn the Way, first learn to be poor; In learning poverty, the Way draws near. Once you embody it, becoming the Way of poverty— In the working of the Way, you remain as poor as ever.

"To learn the Way, one must first learn poverty." The Laozi says: "In the pursuit of learning, one gains a little each day. In the pursuit of the Way, one loses a little each day. Lose and lose again, until one arrives at non-action." A practitioner must be content with poverty and find joy in the Way, letting go of the five desires, the six sense-objects, and all the afflictions that come with them—only then is there something to work with. If one's mouth speaks of practice while the mind runs after fame, rank, wealth, reputation, and offerings, then even if one performs thousands upon thousands of "Buddha deeds," one will end up at odds with the Way.

The character "poverty" (貧) also holds boundless subtlety. In Chan meditation, sitting in stillness and turning the light inward day and night, one sees the five aggregates as wholly empty, not a thread left clinging. Looking back on the self, one finds it open and empty, without trace: "Letting go, the one who has come home is not recognized; there is not a single thing left to offer the honored hall."

"Only after learning poverty does the Way draw near." The learner must awaken suddenly to the empty nature of the five aggregates before there can be any real resonance. And the master, having already settled his own heart, has tasted within "poverty" the intimacy of the Way. "Once you embody it, becoming the Way of poverty; in the working of the Way, you remain as one who is poor"—once the Way of "poverty" is embodied, the great matter is naturally clear. Yet awakening is no different from not awakening. Without reaching true plainness, the furnace-fire cannot burn pure blue. Great wisdom and great foolishness are forged into one.