My life may appear melancholy,
But traveling through this world
I have entrusted myself to Heaven.
In my sack, three quarts of rice;
By the hearth, a bundle of firewood.
If someone asks what is the mark of
enlightenment or illusion
I cannot say –
wealth and honor are nothing but dust.
As the evening rain falls
I sit in my hermitage
And stretch out both feet in answer.
from the book One Robe, One Bowl: The Zen Poetry of Ryokan
translated by John Stevens
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