. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
One night . . . a pitiful -looking skeleton appeared and said these words:
A melancholy autumn wind
Blows through the world;
The pampas grass waves,
As we drift to the moor,
Drift to the sea.
What can be done
With the mind of a man
That should be clear
But though he is dressed up in a monk’s robe,
Just lets life pass him by?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Toward dawn I dozed off, and in my dream I found myself surrounded by a group of skeletons . . . . One skeleton came over to me and said:
Memories
Flee and
Are no more.
All are empty dreams
Devoid of meaning.
Violate the reality of things
And babble about
"God" and "the Buddha"
And you will never find
the true Way.
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