Has a poet ever found a monk?
Liu Changqing fails again
Looking for the Hermit Monk Chang along South Stream Liu Changqing Along the way, I see his tracks In scuff marks on the ferns and mosses, A glassy pool pressed close to clouds, A door long shut by spring’s fresh grasses, I see the pine trees after rain, Track rivulets to secret sources, Find Chan in flowers floating by, Forget all words as each one passes. 刘长卿 寻南溪常山道人隐居 一路经行处，莓苔见履痕。 白云依静渚，春草闭闲门。 过雨看松色，随山到水源。 溪花与禅意，相对亦忘言。
Parting and separation are great themes of Tang poetry, themes that are hard for iPhone wielders to empathise with. Here is another: trying and failing to find someone.
Many poets wrote on this theme, turning the missed connection into a moment of self-discovery. Liu Changqing here offers us one of the simplest and loveliest.
Chan Buddhism, better known in the west by its Japanese name, Zen, is a branch of Buddhist belief that emphasises direct experience and personal apprehension of the truths of Buddhism. The poem repeatedly gives us signs that we can read: the scuff marks tell of the passing of the monk; the clouds tell us how high the pool is; the rivulets point to springs; and finally, the flowers floating on the water point to Chan: the ephemeral nature of the world, and the inextricable link between mortality and beauty. When the signs offer direct perception, language is no longer needed.
Here’s the reconstructed reading: