The Enlightened Heart: An Anthology of Sacred Poetry
1 journaler for this copy...
I had two Christmas gifts that were never delivered. I'd put together a box of books and other treats to send to someone who felt abandoned. My address must have been off because the book box came back. I had a copy of this years ago and thought it would be a good choice when I found a copy. So far this read, this is my favorite poem:
Cutting Up an Ox
Prince Wen Hui’s cook
Was cutting up an ox.
Out went a hand,
Down went a shoulder,
He planted a foot,
He pressed with a knee,
The ox fell apart
With a whisper,
The bright cleaver murmured
Like a gentle wind.
Rhythm! Timing!
Like a sacred dance,
Like “The Mulberry Grove,”
Like ancient harmonies!
“Good work!” the Prince exclaimed,
“Your method is faultless!”
“Method?” said the cook
Laying aside his cleaver,
“What I follow is Tao
Beyond all methods!”
“When I first began
To cut up an oxen
I would see before me
The whole ox
All in one mass.
“After three years
I no longer saw this mass.
I saw the distinctions.
“But now, I see nothing
With the eye. My whole being
Apprehends.
My senses are idle. The spirit
Free to work without plan
Follows its own instinct
Guided by natural line,
By the secret opening, the hidden space,
My cleaver finds its own way.
I cut through no joint, chop no bone.
“A good cook needs a new chopper
Once a year–he cuts.
A poor cook needs a new one
Every month–he hacks!
“I have used this same cleaver
Nineteen years.
It has cut up
A thousand oxen.
Its edge is as keen
As if newly sharpened.
“There are spaces in the joints;
The blade is thin and keen:
When this thinness
Finds that space
There is all the room you need!
It goes like a breeze!
Hence I have this cleaver nineteen years
As if newly sharpened!
“True, there are sometimes
Tough joints. I feel them coming,
I slow down, I watch closely,
Hold back, barely move the blade,
And whump! the part falls away
Landing like a clod of earth.
“Then I withdraw the blade,
I stand still
And let the joy of the work
Sink in.
I clean the blade
And put it away.”
Prince Wan Hui said,
“This is it! My cook has shown me
How I ought to live
My own life!”
Chuang Tzu
from THE WAY OF CHANG TZU, translated by Thomas Merton
Pages 21-23
Cutting Up an Ox
Prince Wen Hui’s cook
Was cutting up an ox.
Out went a hand,
Down went a shoulder,
He planted a foot,
He pressed with a knee,
The ox fell apart
With a whisper,
The bright cleaver murmured
Like a gentle wind.
Rhythm! Timing!
Like a sacred dance,
Like “The Mulberry Grove,”
Like ancient harmonies!
“Good work!” the Prince exclaimed,
“Your method is faultless!”
“Method?” said the cook
Laying aside his cleaver,
“What I follow is Tao
Beyond all methods!”
“When I first began
To cut up an oxen
I would see before me
The whole ox
All in one mass.
“After three years
I no longer saw this mass.
I saw the distinctions.
“But now, I see nothing
With the eye. My whole being
Apprehends.
My senses are idle. The spirit
Free to work without plan
Follows its own instinct
Guided by natural line,
By the secret opening, the hidden space,
My cleaver finds its own way.
I cut through no joint, chop no bone.
“A good cook needs a new chopper
Once a year–he cuts.
A poor cook needs a new one
Every month–he hacks!
“I have used this same cleaver
Nineteen years.
It has cut up
A thousand oxen.
Its edge is as keen
As if newly sharpened.
“There are spaces in the joints;
The blade is thin and keen:
When this thinness
Finds that space
There is all the room you need!
It goes like a breeze!
Hence I have this cleaver nineteen years
As if newly sharpened!
“True, there are sometimes
Tough joints. I feel them coming,
I slow down, I watch closely,
Hold back, barely move the blade,
And whump! the part falls away
Landing like a clod of earth.
“Then I withdraw the blade,
I stand still
And let the joy of the work
Sink in.
I clean the blade
And put it away.”
Prince Wan Hui said,
“This is it! My cook has shown me
How I ought to live
My own life!”
Chuang Tzu
from THE WAY OF CHANG TZU, translated by Thomas Merton
Pages 21-23
Journal Entry 2 by 
Cordelia-anne
at -- Wild released somewhere in the state, Georgia USA on Sunday, April 26, 2020
Cordelia-anne at -- Wild released somewhere in the state, Georgia USA on Sunday, April 26, 2020
Stephen Mitchell is a practicing Buddhist and a noted translator of sacred texts and of the German poet Rilke. He gets good and bad notices. His translation of Gilgamesh, a recently discovered ancient text, was not favorably reviewed recently in The New Yorker https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/10/14/how-to-read-gilgamesh/
But I enjoy his Rilke translations and this is a nice anthology. I have decided to keep it as I released a copy to BookCrossing earlier. I have enjoyed encountering a lot of these poems again, remembering that I read them before at a completely different time of my life.
This is the copy I released 16 years ago: https://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/1883583/
But I enjoy his Rilke translations and this is a nice anthology. I have decided to keep it as I released a copy to BookCrossing earlier. I have enjoyed encountering a lot of these poems again, remembering that I read them before at a completely different time of my life.
This is the copy I released 16 years ago: https://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/1883583/
