Jīndān fù 金丹賦
Rhapsody on the Gold-Elixir
with commentary by 馬蒞昭 (注)
About the work
A long alchemical fù 賦 (rhapsody) of unknown authorship with a Yuán-period commentary by Mǎ Lìzhāo 馬蒞昭, in one juan (47 folios), preserved in the Zhèngtǒng Dàozàng 正統道藏 (DZ 0261 / CT 261 = TC 260), 洞真部 方法類. The poem is a counterpart to — and substantially overlaps with — the Nèidān fù 內丹賦 of [[KR5a0260|DZ 259 Táo zhēnrén nèidān fù]] (also recorded under the name Jīndān fù in early-Sòng catalogues). The poem opens with Fū dào zì chéng 夫道自成 (“the Way completes itself”) and proceeds, line by line, through the entire nèidān curriculum: cosmogony from the Way’s spontaneous generation of qì 氣 and the Tàijí 太極; the constitution of the cauldron and furnace as qián 乾 and kūn 坤; the role of kǎn 坎 and lí 離 as the dynamic centre of the eight trigrams; the catching of the elixir-ingredients (lead and mercury) at the proper times; fire-phasing through the cycle of the sixty-four hexagrams; the inner symbols of qīnglóng 青龍, báihǔ 白虎, zhūquè 朱雀, xuánwǔ 玄武; the closing transmutation of body to perfected form. Mǎ Lìzhāo’s commentary is far longer than the poem and is markedly philosophical in cast: it discourses on the Way, the interaction of yīn and yáng, and the universal order, with examples drawn from the Yìjīng 易經, the Lǎozǐ 老子, and especially the Xuángāng lùn 玄綱論 and other treatises of the Táng Daoist Wú Yún 吳筠 (d. 778).
Prefaces
Mǎ Lìzhāo’s commentator’s preface. “Quietly I have heard that life is the root of the Way, that only Heaven, Earth, sun, and moon endure forever; that teaching is the dignity of the Way, and that summoning forth the spontaneous transformations is its way of standing as instruction. Yuánshǐ tiānzūn 元始天尊 hung up the millet-grain pearl and expounded subtly the meaning of the mystery-of-mysteries; Lǎojūn 老君 mounted the jade-bolt and broadly proclaimed the lineage of the silent and the still. This is what gave rise to the name ‘Golden Elixir’ — jīndān 金丹. Hence Wèi Bóyáng 魏伯陽 of the Hàn imitated the Zhōuyì 周易 to compose the Cāntóng qì 參同契; and from Jìn, Táng, Sòng to the present day, the like of Xǔ Jīngyáng 許旌陽 and Gě Zhìchuān 葛稚川 have all gone to the very bottom of the art and accomplished its Way. I, the disciple Mǎ Lìzhāo, have reverently been brought into being between Heaven and Earth and have stolen an admiration for the wind of the mystery; though the broad road of wúwéi 無為 has been thrown wide open, I move only on tiptoe; though the gates of the many marvels have been set out wide for any who would peer in, I must take care with my eyes. I have leaned upon the sage to draw me forward, and have relied upon the deep knowledge of the True Virtue to lead me along, drawing again and again with my modest ladle. Therefore I have ventured to open up the marvelous canons and humbly to recite the mystery-text — with a heart-mind firm as iron to chip at my stubborn rock, with an ambition vast and ash-empty to take the spirit-root. Reflecting on floating life as the foam of water and a wind-driven lamp, knowing the Great Way to be the long-enduring of Heaven and Earth — yet then the divine motion does not cease, my pondering is far from precise, my desire to settle the matter privately has not yet found a worthy occasion. Just then, in a roadside inn, I started up at the autumn wind: one night a cicada cried, and I gathered my scrolls before the frost-lit lamp; gnawing my anxiety, more than once I was wounded by the chirping in the wall. The Jīndān fù came to me, and I read it; not knowing who composed it, I yet recited the text again and again to expel my distress. Each time I left off chanting, I could not but clasp my knees, lift my brows, and find no place for myself. So — the formula will not be casually issued, and the principle is not to be vainly imitated; this is the deep warning of the sages. Truly, with a foolish thoroughness, I have presumed to peruse it carefully, in the hope that as my mind roams the marvelous principles I may gradually plumb its true mysteries. If in this I have transgressed the strict measures, I take the blame for my own usurpation; I have stored it in basket and box and reverently waited for one who has arrived. With effort I have read it through to the heart, and have dared to make a few notes.”
Abstract
Farzeen Baldrian-Hussein, in Schipper & Verellen eds., The Taoist Canon (2004) 1:736–737 (§3.A.1, Philosophy), establishes that the present Jīndān fù is a counterpart to the Nèidān fù of [[KR5a0260|DZ 259 Táo zhēnrén nèidān fù]] (which the Sòng Chóngwén zǒngmù lists, in fact, as a Jīndān fù 金丹賦). The commentator Mǎ Lìzhāo, who refers to himself as a “disciple of the Great Tao” (dàdào dìzǐ), presumably lived during the Yuán period: his preface speaks of “Jìn, Táng, Sòng” as past dynasties (preface 1a). According to his own preface, Mǎ’s copy of the Jīndān fù lacked any indication of authorship, and since he mentions no older commentaries, he most likely simply possessed the anonymous poem. His interpretation is philosophical and is greatly influenced by the works of the Táng Daoist Wú Yún 吳筠: the Xuángāng lùn 玄綱論 and other philosophical treatises by Wú are repeatedly invoked. The frontmatter brackets composition within the Yuán dynasty (1279–1368). The poem itself is much longer than that in DZ 259 and shows many variants; on the relation of the two recensions see Baldrian-Hussein’s analysis (TC 1:404).
Translations and research
No full translation. Standard scholarly entry: Farzeen Baldrian-Hussein, “Jindan fu,” in Schipper & Verellen eds., The Taoist Canon (2004), Vol. 1 §3.A.1, 736–737. On Wú Yún’s influence on Yuán nèidān hermeneutics: Edward Schafer, Mirages on the Sea of Time: The Taoist Poetry of Ts’ao T’ang (Berkeley 1985); Isabelle Robinet, Introduction à l’alchimie intérieure taoïste (Paris: Cerf, 1995). On Yuán-period fù commentaries on alchemical poetry: Anna Seidel, “A Taoist Immortal of the Ming Dynasty,” in Self and Society in Ming Thought (New York 1970).
Links
- Kanseki Repository KR5a0262
- Schipper & Verellen, The Taoist Canon (2004), Vol. 1 §3.A.1, 736–737.