Because the mind is free -
Listening to the rain
Dripping from the eaves,
The drops become
One with me.
In The Stream
In the stream,
Rushing past
To the dusty world,
My fleeting form
Casts no reflection.
Drifting pitifully in the whirlwind of birth and death,
As if wandering in a dream,
In the midst of illusion I awaken to the true path;
There is one more matter I must not neglect,
But I need not bother now,
As I listen to the sound of the evening rain
Falling on the roof of my temple retreat
In the deep grass of Fukakusa.
Coming or Going
The migrating bird
leaves no trace behind
and does not need a guide.
Worship
A white heron
Hiding itself
In the snowy field,
Where even the winter grass
Cannot be seen.
Zazen
The moon reflected
In a mind clear
As still water:
Even the waves, breaking,
Are reflecting its light.
To what shall
I liken the world?
Moonlight, reflected
In dewdrops,
Shaken from a crane's bill.
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