Chapter 44

Evil in the Heart's Centre Crosses

the Backbone Pass

There is a poem that goes:

They travel West escaping dangers to seek the scriptures;

Nor can they stop at all the famous mountains.

They press on night and day, starting crows and hares;

The seasons turn amid falling blossom and bird−song.

In the dust under one's eyes are three thousand worlds;

Four hundred prefectures rest on the head of a staff.

Sleeping in dew...