Happy in the morning,
I open my cottage door; a clear breeze
blowing comes straight in. The first sun lights
the leafy trees, the shadows it casts are crystal clear.
Serene, in accord with my heart, everything merges
in one harmony. Gain and loss are not my
concern; this way is enough to
the end of my days.
Before the night
is even through, I rise and sit,
watching fireflies. The night air clear as
water, the meditating mind is light as a reed.
The moon outlines trees on the western ridge;
a bell arouses homes up above. There may
be those in the dark who know
just how fine is what
I have found.
The fun of roaming free
is endless, hard to exhaust. When tired
I sit on a mossy bank, unaware of the cold sun falling
in my love for the cool of the breeze in the pines. Deer descend
to drink of the valley streams; monkeys arrive to pick of
the mountain fruits. What I originally valued were
freedom and quietude; why should
I require that people
know of me?