Quietly humming a line from a love song,
Harmonious sound, faintly, a jeweled bell.
A whole night of falling flowers and flowing water is fragrant.
The flowers bound to a spring where being and non-being contradict one another.
Futile regrets floating down stream,
Cloud-rain, tonight, a single dream.
The singing stops, morning comes, one fragment remains.
In the space of a moment, ten thousand kalpas of pain.
A safe firmly established life, where is it?
In words, there is a flavor, but who is able to taste it?
A taste of honey and we forget the disaster at the bottom of the well.
When you are starving, a bowl of rice is worth a thousand pieces of gold.
He has lost his magic power, come down to live on earth,
And becomes a blind man leading the blind.
Yesterday’s clarity is today’s stupidity.
Still delightful, the sound of the wind soothing my thoughts.