Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Two Poems by That Old Monk, Ryokan


1

Shaggy hair past the ears,
A worn-out robe resembling white clouds and dark smoke.
Half drunk, half sober, I return home,
Children all around, guiding me along the Way.


2

An old and useless body,
I have seen many generations of flowers in this
...lonely borrowed hermitage.
When spring comes, and if I am still alive,
Surely I will come to see you again-
Listen for the sound of my staff.


No comments:

Post a Comment