Fresh, clear spirit covers old mountain man this autumn.
Donkey stares at the sky ceiling; glowing white moon floats.
Nothing approaches. Nothing else included.
Bouyant, I let myself go-filled with gruel, filled with rice.
Lively flapping from head to tail,
Sky above, sky beneath, cloud self, water origin.
Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water. The moon does not get
wet, nor is the water broken. Although its light is wide and great, The
moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide. The whole moon and the
entire sky Are reflected in one dewdrop on the grass.
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
evening rain Falling on the roof of my temple retreat In the deep grass of
Zen Poetry of Dogen: Verses from the Mountain of Eternal Peace