READING BUDDHIST CLASSICS WITH ZHAO
AT HIS TEMPLE IN THE EARLY MORNING
I clean my teeth in water drawn from a cold well；
And while I brush my clothes, I purify my mind；
Then, slowly turning pages in the Tree-Leaf Book,
I recite, along the path to the eastern shelter.
……The world has forgotten the true fountain of this teaching
And people enslave themselves to miracles and fables.
Under the given words I want the essential meaning,
I look for the simplest way to sow and reap my nature.
Here in the quiet of the priest's templecourtyard,
Mosses add their climbing colour to the thick bamboo；
And now comes the sun, out of mist and fog,
And pines that seem to be new-bathed；
And everything is gone from me, speech goes, and reading,
Leaving the single unison.