Saturday, June 17, 2017
Done begging in a rundown village,
I make my way home past green boulders.
Late sun hides behind western peaks;
pale moonlight shines on the stream before me.
I wash my feet, climb up on a rock,
light incense, sit in meditation.
After all, I wear a monk's robe--
how could I spend the years doing nothing?
-- Ryokan --
That last sentence makes me look again at the seven lines preceding it, and I have to wonder about them. Is he being ironic here? What, if anything, does this say about a monk's way of living? Or, about Ryokan?