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#Stonehouse poem
36. I was a #Zen monk who didn't know Zen
So I chose the woods for the years I had left
A robe made of patches over my body
A belt of bamboo around my waist
Mountains and streams explain the Patriarch's meaning
Flower smiles and birdsongs reveal the hidden key
Sometimes I sit on a flat-topped rock
Late cloudless nights once a month
The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse 14th century Buddhist monk, mountain hermit.
31. This body lasts about as long as a bubble
May as well let it go
Things don't often go as we wish
Who can step back doesn't worry
We blossom and fade like flowers
We gather and part like clouds
I stopped thinking about the world a long time ago
Relaxing all day in a teetering hut
#zen #buddha #poem
The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse 14th century Buddhist monk, mountain hermit.
14. I entered the mountains and learned to be dumb
I am usually too tired to open my mouth
I don't point out the mistakes of others
My own faults are what I try to alter
The tea must be ready my clay stove is red
The moon must be up the paper windows are white
Who in the past saw through this transient world
Yen Tsu-ling fished alone from his rock