ENG
Countless souls pursue the immortal quest,
Seeking the Dao, but truth is not addressed.
The ferry itself will never be ashore,
Ask not when fruits will ripen, in the void they fade evermore.
Some say he is Bodhisattva Guanyin.
Some say he is Patriarch Bodhi.
Some say he is Sun Wukong himself.
Others say he is just an unnamed old monkey in the mountains.
With the same posture, he always starts with the same line.
Sometimes, the mountaintop is empty and silent.
Sometimes, the summit is bustling with monkey cries.
Whenever a Destined One sets out on their journey, he gifts them with a handmade willow staff.
As he breaks off the willow branch to send them off, he feels a twinge of reluctance in his heart.
The Immortals of the Celestial Court say he is gambling.
The Buddha on Mount Lingshan says that gambling inevitably leads to loss.
He says he neither gambles nor loses.
He is just waiting for the stories the Destined Ones will tell him upon their return.
And he has never heard two identical stories.
...
The scene opens with countless people chasing the Dao, an immortal or spiritual truth. The poem says that many set out on this quest but that the truth itself is never really addressed; the image of a ferry that will never reach shore and fruit that never ripen suggests the journey is endless and its final answers remain out of reach. On a mountaintop there is a recurring figure who greets every traveler the same way: he stands in the same posture and always begins with the same line.
That figure is an old monkey who appears mysterious: different people call him different things. Some say he is the Bodhisattva Guanyin. Some call him Patriarch Bodhi. Some insist he is Sun Wukong. Others say he is just an unnamed old monkey living in the mountains. The text leaves his true identity ambiguous on purpose, so characters and travelers interpret him according to their own beliefs.
Whenever someone who is a Destined One begins their journey, this old monkey gives them a handmade willow staff. He breaks a branch off a willow tree to make the staff, and the act of breaking it always causes him a small twinge of reluctance in his heart. The mountain itself is not always the same: sometimes it is empty and silent, other times it is full of noisy monkey cries, depending on who has come and gone.
Other powerful beings notice what he does and judge it. The Immortals of the Celestial Court say he is gambling by sending people off like that. The Buddha on Mount Lingshan warns that gambling leads to loss. The old monkey, however, replies that he neither gambles nor loses. He refuses those labels and gives a different explanation for his behavior.
His explanation is simple: he is waiting to hear the stories the Destined Ones will tell when they come back. He has never heard two identical stories, which means every traveler’s journey turns out to be unique. The contrast between the never-arriving ferry and the endless variety of returned stories is central: there may be no single, final answer to the Dao, but each person’s path produces its own irreplaceable tale.
Taken together, the scene presents the old monkey as a guardian or witness of seekers rather than a teacher who offers fixed truths. He sends people off with a willow staff, feels some reluctance at their departure, and then listens, collecting different experiences. The wider implication is that the spiritual journey is ongoing and personal; its value lies in the distinct stories people bring back, not in reaching a definitive endpoint.