Preface and Poem on a Journey to Stone Gate 
(400)
Stone Gate is more than three miles south of the Dragon Spring Retreat; another name for it is Screen Mountain. Its base is connected to the great Hermitage Mountain range, but its form rises above all the lesser hills. A gap has been cut through where three rivers converge; its halves stand opposite each other, creating an opening for the water to flow forth. Slanting cliffs darkly glisten above; it owes its shape and appearance to Nature itself, hence its name. Though but a nook in Hermitage Mountain, it is truly the most extraordinary scene in the area. It has been often mentioned in ancient legends, yet many are those who have never seen it. For the route by the cascading waterfall is dangerous and steep, with no tracks of men or animals; and along the path that twists and turns through the hills, the way is blocked and difficult to travel. So few have passed this way.
A Buddhist Master took up his staff and journeyed here in the second month of spring in the fourth year of the Lung-an era [March—April 400] in order to chant poems about the scenery. We disciples of like mind who accompanied him numbered more than thirty. All of us donned our robes and set out at daybreak; our uncertainty only increased our sense of rapture. Though forests and valleys lay deep and secluded, we opened up a path and forged ahead; though we ascended precarious heights and trod over rocks, we took comfort in the pleasure gained. Upon arriving at Stone Gate, we clambered up by grasping on to trees and vines, crossed dangerous passes, and scaled cliffs, taking hold of each other's arms like gibbons until we finally reached the summit. There, we leaned against the cliffs and embraced the scenic beauty. Examining the view below, we realized that the most extraordinary beauty of the Seven Ridges[1] was hidden right here. Before us stood the pair of stone gate towers, their peaks facing each other; behind, layers of cliffs glistened. Peaks and hills surrounded us, forming a screen; lofty crags were positioned on four sides, marking another realm. In the middle were a rock terrace, a rock pond, some rocks resembling palace
Fig. 10.
Ching Hao (active ca. 870–930), Mount Lu (Hermitage Mountain) .
National Palace Museum, Taipei.
halls, and others with realistic shapes. It was thoroughly delightful. The flow of a clear stream divided, then reunited; limpid depths were of a mirrorlike clarity greater than the Celestial Pond.[2] Patterned rocks burst into color, brilliant like radiant faces. Tamarisks, pines, and fragrant plants dazzled with their luxuriance. The spiritual beauty was simply consummate!
This was a day when all our emotions raced with joy: we never tired of surveying the scene. We had not been viewing it for long before the atmosphere underwent many transformations. When mist and fog gathered densely, everything became concealed. When the sun's rays returned to shine, all the mountains were reflected in the water. As the sky opened and closed, it seemed to reveal a numinous spirit beyond human comprehension. As he ascended the heights, soaring birds beat their wings, and cries of gibbons echoed sharply. When returning clouds transported him back to the mountain, we imagined the arrival of a Transcendent. Entrancing sounds harmonized with each other like the transmission of mystical tones. Though we but faintly perceived them, they delighted our spirits; though we did not expect this joy to last, we remained delighted the entire day. Just when our happiness was complete and we felt content, it seemed that, indeed, there was a meaning in all of this, but we could not easily express it. So we stepped back to ponder everything.
The things we encountered amid these cliffs and valleys lack consciousness and ought not to be capable of enrapturing us through emotions so that we respond so deeply. Do not Emptiness and Clarity illuminate our vision, while Quietude and Deep Understanding render our emotions genuine? When we discussed this over and over again, we found it endlessly appealing. Suddenly, the sun withdrew into nightfall, and what had existed now disappeared. Then we realized how a Solitaire surveys the mystery of the universe and comprehends the eternal nature of things. How could the spiritual meaning of all this be limited to just mountains and streams?
We lingered among the lofty peaks, letting our eyes roam in all directions. The Nine Rivers[3] resembled belts; the hills were like the mounds of ants. Judging from this, we realized that just as forms can be minuscule as well as immense, so likewise is intelligence. We sighed deeply: the universe may be ancient, yet past and present match like the halves of a tally. Divine Vulture Peak[4] is distant indeed, and the road to it through the wilds seems to stretch farther day by day. Without Buddha, why else would such a place have been preserved? He responded to profound karma and became enlightened into the remote causes of
things, feeling sympathy and eternal compassion. Each of us was happy to share the pleasure of this occasion and was moved by the thought that such a fine day might not come again. So our emotions were stirred within us, and we chanted the following poem:
A transcending rapture
is uncaused.
Respond to the truth of things
and rapture will arise of itself.
We suddenly heard
about a journey to Stone Gate,
Where our extraordinary poems
could express hidden feelings.
Lifting our robes,
we thought ourselves traveling on a cloud.
Gazing at the cliffs,
we imagined the Many-storied Citadel.[5]
With quickened steps,
we ascended high crags
And unexpectedly
found our bodies feeling lighter.
With raised heads,
we climbed to these magic gate-towers.
The distance felt like
crossing to the Heaven of Great Purity.[6]
Seated upright,
we turned the Wheel of Emptiness
And unrolled
the Classic of Mystery .[7]
Since Gods and Transcendents
are transformed like all things,
It is better
to disappear into the Unseen.[8]
Fig. 11
Hsia Kuei (active first half of 13th cent.), A Myriad Miles Along the Long River (detail). National Palace Museum, Taipei.