Zen Poems

Treacherous and narrow, ten thousand feet up; Over Boulders and bridges, lichens of green, White clouds are often seen soaring, A cascade suspends in mid-air like a bolt of silk; The moon's reflection falls on a deep pool, glittering. I shall climb up the magnificent mountain peak, To await the arrival of a solitary crane.

Books

It is when we near the end of a book that we enjoy it Guests whom we anxiously expect often fail to come So the world runs always contrary to our wishes. How rarely in a hundred years do we open our hearts!

Begonias

The east wind blows gently. The rising rays float On the thick perfumed mist. The moon appears, right there, At the corner of the balcony. I only fear in the depth of night The flowers will fall asleep. I hold up a gilded candle To shine on their scarlet beauty.