Tall pines chant in the wind,
Rain falls lightly at dusk.
East Cloister is half-shut,
West Cloister is locked.
I walked through mountains all day
Yet met no people;
The perfume of wild plum blossoms
Fills my sleeves.
The resident monk laughs at me
For being so enamored of pure scenes.
He dislikes the remoteness of mountains,
But he cannot leave.
Though I love the mountains,
I, too, laugh at myself.
Solitary withdrawal harms the spirit,
It would be hard to carry on.
How much nicer, on West lake,
To drink fine wine,
The scents of red apricots and green peaches
Filling the hair.
- Su Shi (1037-1101)I am satisfied with jar of water.
Rowing around Curtis Island with Rokie in bow and Saskia in 2nd rowing station, we navigate chop and trough from southwest wind.
At morning Buddhist meditation practice we read after sitting then Heart Sutre the chapter by Shunryu Suzuki on Bluejay song in commentary on Sandokai.
My face hurts in the changing season.
Even so, everything is as it is.
And all's well.