Nothing is known of the author of this poem, other than that he lived in the Chungnan Mountains south of Ch’ang-an and called himself T’ai-shang ying-che (The Ancient Recluse). Here, he replies to someone who has asked him why and how long he had been living there. He dismisses the first question with ou-lai (somehow/by chance) and the second question with wu-li-jih (no calendar) and then laughs at the idea of time-constrained concerns. The phrase kao-mien (sleeping in comfort) comes from the precept that prohibits Buddhist monks and nuns from using excessive bedding. Its use here is meant to emphasize the poet’s detachment from the usual standards of comfort as well as from precepts. The last line also recalls the story of the refugees who escaped to the hidden world of Peach Blossom Spring and, upon being discovered, wondered what dynasty it was.
THE ANCIENT RECLUSE
Somehow I ended up beneath pines
sleeping in comfort on boulders
there aren’t any calendars in the mountains
winter ends but who counts the years