Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Red clouds tower in the west,
The sun is sinking on the plain.
A sparrow chirps on the wicker gate,
I return from a thousand li away.
My wife and children are shocked to see me,
Then calm themselves and wipe their tears.
I floated through this disordered life,
By chance I have managed to return alive.
The neighbours all lean over the wall,
And they as well are sighing and sobbing.
Late at night we bring out candles,
And face each other as in a dream.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Saturday, December 7, 2013
I made my home amidst this human bustle,
Yet I hear no clamour from the carts and horses.
My friend, you ask me how this can be so?
A distant heart will tend towards like places.
From the eastern hedge, I pluck chrysanthemum flowers,
And idly look towards the southern hills.
The mountain air is beautiful day and night,
The birds fly back to roost with one another.
I know that this must have some deeper meaning,
I try to explain, but cannot find the words.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Look upon the body as unreal,
an image in a mirror,
the reflection of the moon in water.
Contemplate the mind as formless,
yet bright and pure.
Not a single thought arising,
empty, yet perceptive;
still, yet illuminating;
complete like the great emptiness,
containing all that is wonderful.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Monday, December 2, 2013
Sunday, December 1, 2013
AFTER THE RAIN, CLIMBING A TALL BUILDING TO VIEW THE MOUNTAINS
It was just clearing after the rain of the night before
Mossy traces were on the steps.
I didn't climb the building thinking about writing a poem.
This poet's fest doesn't need any wine warming.
Just open the window, the mountain range will come in.
Before the eye, the village, drenched in smoke,
I write now and see it as I saw it then -
The mountains and the sea -
Viewing it in detail
Like a painted picture.