The Guanyin at Dabeige is no more. This one in Kaifeng.
Dabeige Ji, At Chengdu
I observe men of the world
With their two eyes and two arms.
Things approach and they cannot respond,
So bewildered they know not what to do.
Even those who wish to respond properly
Are all inverted and engage in thinking.
But if their thinking is not real or true,
They may as well have no arms or eyes,
The bodhisattva has a thousand arms and eyes,
Yet it is like having but one.
When things arrive, the mind meets them;
The bodhisattva never engages in thinking.
In whatever way it is right to respond
The bodhisattva always does so correctly.
A drawn bow and white arrow,
A sword and shield or other weapons,
A sutra scoll and incense flowers,
A finger basin of green willow branch,
A large jeweled censor made of coral,
A white whisk, a crimson wisteria staff,
The bodhisattva holds onto whatever is encountered,
Doing so without any doubts.
How can the bodhisattva be free of doubts?
Because the deity's self has no-mind.
If there were still a mind,
A thousand arms would mean a thousand minds.
If a single person had a thousand minds,
They would fight with each other inside him,
What time would he have to respond to things?
But when a thousand arms have no single mind,
Every arm attains its proper place.
I bow to the Revered One of Great Compassion,
Desiring also to save all living beings.
May each actualize the way of no-mind
And each acquire a thousand arms and eyes.
Dàbēigé Jì Chéngdū Fǔ
Sū Shì 1036-1101
Wú guān shì jiān rén，
Liǎng mù liǎng shǒubì.
Wù zhì bùnéng yīng，
Kuáng huò shī suǒ cuò.
Qí yǒu yù yīng zhě，
Diāndǎo zuò sīlǜ.
Sīlǜ fēi zhēnshí，
Wú yì wú shǒu mù.
Púsà qiān shǒu mù，
Yǔ yī shǒu mù tóng.
Wù zhì xīn yì zhì，
Céng bù zuò sīlǜ.
Suí qí suǒ dāng yīng，
Wú bù dé qí dāng.
Yǐn gōng xié bái yǔ，
Jiàn dùn zhū xiè qì，
Jīngjuàn jí xiāng huā，
Yú shuǐ qīng yáng zhī，
Shānhú dà bào jù，
Bái fú zhū téng zhàng，
Suǒ yù wú bù zhí，
Suǒ zhí wú yǒu yí.
Yuánhé dé wú yí，
Yǐ wǒ wú xīn gù.
Ruò yóu yǒu xīn zhě，
Qiān shǒu dāng qiān xīn.
Yì rén ér qiān xīn，
Nèi zì xiāng jué rǎng，
Hé xiá néng yīng wù.
Qiān shǒu wú yī xīn，
Shǒu shǒu dé qí chǔ.
Qí shǒu dà bēi zūn，
Yuàn dù yíqiè zhòng.
Jiē zhèng wú xīn fǎ，
Jiē jù qiān shǒu mù.
"... If I tell someone to wield an axe with his left hand and hold chisel in his right, use his eyes to count geese in flight and his ears to keep track of a beating drum, and nod his head to a person beside him and use his feet to climb a ladder, no matter how intelligent he was he would leave something undone. So how could a thousand arm each wield a different implement, and a thousand eyes each watch a different object? But when I sit at leisure and remain quiet, my mind and thoughts grow still and silent: everything appears as clearly to me as in a large bright mirror. People, ghosts, birds, and beasts are arrayed before me; sights, sounds, smells, and flavors come in contact with my person. Although my mind does not arise, there is nothing does not receive, and it receives each according to the Way. Then as for a thousand arms extending or a thousand eyes turning, the pattern for this is fully established even if no one ever sees it happen. The bodhisattva is just this way. Even though the body remains one and does not become two bodhisattvas, still this one bodhisattva can cover as many countries as there are sands in the Gangs. There is no other reason than this: the bodhisattva is not confused when coming into contact with things and responds to whatever arrives. This is a natural consequences, so why should the bodhisattva have any difficulties in maintaining all-encompassing compassion?" --Ron Eagan
From Ronald C. Egan's Word, Image, and Deed in the Life of Su Shi, the Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University, and the Harvard-Yenching Institute