Chia Tao (779-843).
MOURNING THE DEATH
OF CH’AN MASTER PO-YEN
Fresh moss covers
the stone bed;
how many springtimes
was it the Master’s?
His profile in meditation
has been sketched;
but the body of the meditator
has been burned.
Snow in the pines
has closed the pagoda courtyard;
dust settles in the the lock
on the sutra library.
I chide myself
for these two tears —
a man who hasn’t grasped
the empty nature of all things.
OF CH’AN MASTER PO-YEN
Fresh moss covers
the stone bed;
how many springtimes
was it the Master’s?
His profile in meditation
has been sketched;
but the body of the meditator
has been burned.
Snow in the pines
has closed the pagoda courtyard;
dust settles in the the lock
on the sutra library.
I chide myself
for these two tears —
a man who hasn’t grasped
the empty nature of all things.
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