For more than seventy years, I have been making Myself dizzy observing men. I have abandoned trying to penetrate men's good and bad actions. Coming and going is a sign of weakness. Heavy snow in the dead of night — Under the weather-beaten window, once incense stick. Light rain — the mountain forest is wrapped in mist. Slowly the fog changes to clouds and haze. Along the boundless river bank, many crows. I walk to a hill overlooking the valley to sit in zazen. After spending the day begging in town, I now sit peacefully under a cliff in the evening cool. Alone, with one robe and one bowl — The life of a Zen monk is truly the best!
_____________________ Ryokan One Robe, One Bowl translated by John Stevens