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“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 enening rain Falling on the roof of my temple retreat In the deep grass of Fukakusa.” “For six months I’ve been taking my rice at the home of a layman, Feeling like the blossoms of an old plum tree covered by the snow and frost, Exhilarated in hearing the first sound of thunder crackling across the sky – The five red petals of spring peach blossoms will soon be brightening the capital. Clouds are scattered in the autumn sky, But you can see the moon in your mind; I raise up my hossu and say, ‘Look!’” “If you wish only to see the physical moon, Then you will miss the moon-that-is-your-mind; When you see the brightness of clouds swirling about the moon, You may think at first that it is the moon itself that you are looking at, But then you will never behold the actual moon on this autumn night. All my life perplexed by truth and falsity, right and wrong; Now amusing myself in the moonlight, Laughing at the wind, Listening to the songs of birds – So many years spent idly contemplating, The immense white layer on the mountains; This winter, all of a sudden, I see it for the first time as a snow – mountain.”
