Matching the Rhymes When the Seon Master Sent a Reply次韻禪師見和
Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) 東國李相國集 · Yi Gyubo · Compiled 1241 (Goryeo, 28th year of King Gojong); revised and enlarged 1251 · 2 passages · 112 Chinese characters · reading time 1.2 min
Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) Latter Collection, Book 7 The collected writings of Yi Gyubo of Goryeo, gathered and cut in woodblock by his son Yi Ham in 1241 and revised and enlarged by his grandson Yi Ikbae in 1251. It holds poems and rhapsodies, memorials and reports sent up to the king, records written for temples and pagodas, stele and tomb inscriptions, letters and prefaces, and the state letters that passed to and from the Mongols during the invasions. The Lay of King Dongmyeong, which sings the founder of Goguryeo, stands in volume 3 of the first collection, and the daily life of a man who called himself the White Cloud Layman — with his wine, his zither and his verse — fills the later collection. The book closes with the last poem he wrote as his eyes failed and he laid down the brush, and with the dirge and tomb inscription others made for him after his death.
It was made from powder, newly congealed like snow,
not fitting for an old and ugly man who has laid down office.
I only know that my tongue finds it sweet and tastes the fine flavor;
I still put off going in person to bow before your pure traces.
Even in sickness I can still tell food that suits my mouth;
but why, unlooked for, do you take such pains to send treasures again?
Each time I look, your beautiful writing all awakens a man:
the words are clear as autumn water, the patterns spread out like spring.
Earlier you newly sent me food unlike any other,
and at every spoonful I long for the man who sent it.
Again you have thrown me splendid writing like brocade,
discussing in detail the principles of things, splitting them down to hair and dust.
Your words are all words of the Dharma, surpassing a thousand gathas;
the flavor is fine food, a match for the eight delicacies.
I shall wait for my illness to mend, then go and thank you as I ought,
and meeting you warmly, receive a warmth like spring sunlight.