Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wang Wei, 699-761
A man as old as a dragon bell, I walk slowly
to visit a meditation temple,
to ask the mean of a good heart. Remotely,
I feel the sickness of the void is itself void.
Mountains and rivers are in the Buddha's eye,
the universe in dharma's body.
Don't be surprised that meditation controls hot days
and raises wind over the land.