Life is a dream,
the years pass by like flowing waters.
Glamour and glory are transient as autumn smoke;
what tragedy — for with the sun set deeply in the
west, still there are those lost among
paths of disillusionment.
Our heart
should be clear as ice.
Forget all the worldly nonsense.
Sit calmly, breathe quietly, heart bright
and spotless as an empty mirror.
This is the path to
the buddha’s
table.
