today's begging is finished; at the crossroads
i wander by the side of hachiman shrine
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To kindle a fire,
the autumn winds have piled
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First blooming in the Western Paradise,
The lotus has delighted us for ages.
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Down in the village
the din of
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The winds have died, but flowers go on falling;
birds call, but silence penetrates each song.
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The plants and flowers
I raised about my hut
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Deep in the valley, a beauty hides:
Serene, peerless, incomparably sweet.
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you must rise above
the gloomy clouds
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You stop to point at the moon in the sky,
but the finger's blind unless the moon is shining.
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First days of Spring-the sky
is bright blue, the sun huge and warm.
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My house is buried in the deepest recess of the forest
Every year, ivy vines grow longer than the year before.
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Though frost come down, Night after night
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This world
A fading
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At the crossroads this year, after
begging all day
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Two miles from town, I meet an old woodcutter
and we travel the road lined with huge pines.
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in this dream world
we doze
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Slopes
of Mount Kugami—
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No luck today on my mendicant rounds;
From village to village I dragged myself.
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Stretched out,
Tipsy,
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Returning to my native village after many years’ absence:
I'll I put up at a country inn and listen to the rain.
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Midsummer -- I walk about with my staff.
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In stubborn stupidity, I live on alone
befriended by trees and herbs.
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The Three Thousand Worlds that step forward
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have you forgotten me
or lost the path here?
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When spring arrives
From every tree tip
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The wind has settled, the blossoms have fallen;
Birds sing, the mountains grow dark --
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Like the little stream
Making its way
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Yes, I’m truly a dunce
Living among trees and plants.
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With no mind, flowers lure the
butterfly;
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In my youth I put aside my studies
And I aspired to be a saint.
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