Monday, July 21, 2008

a bit more of that empty stuff


To birds invitation
the space shines
empty seal

Abbots and rebels
tumble down
the same mountain

Made of twigs, fogs
and frogs
the true temple

Your thoughts and mine
and in our very hearts
who minds?







Monday, July 14, 2008

Three little summer poems

A pine-tree stands in the cold winter. Eihei Taizen, old man.




L’ encre et la nuée

Brume-montagne

Un rouleau


Ink and cloud

Mountain-mist

A scroll

 

Le pin

Depose son ombre

De lune

 

Pine-tree

Drops its

Moon-shadow

 

Du s’asseoir-Zen

On ne peut

Rien dire

 

About sitting-Zen

One cannot

say anything