The Constant Murmur from the Mind

I sit and gaze on this highest peak of all;
Wherever I look there is distance without end.
I am all alone and no one knows I am here,
A lonely moon is mirrored in the cold pool.
Down in the pool there is not really a moon;
The only moon is in the sky above.
I sing to you this one piece of song;
But in the song there is not any Zen.

Han-Shan, 750
Translated by Arthur Waley
Zen Poems

Posted by John Hinds at August 3, 2014 11:18 AM

Shen's drawing is on the cover of David Hinton's Mountain Home: The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China, one of my favorite poetry books. ISBN 0-8112-1624-1

Posted by ELC at August 3, 2014 6:53 PM

And I? I am a madman most,
running mazes in my mind.
And I wonder what I'll find,
here in this world
I call my home.

Howard Nelson
so long ago

Basho (d. 1694) spoke of his wondering even towards the end, "On a journey, ill, and across fields all withered, dreams go wandering still."

Posted by Howard Nelson at August 5, 2014 5:46 PM

Clouds, silent, punctuate the the scroll of sky,
Their message is clear --
With ease I lift my burden and
Proceed with a thankful sigh.

Posted by Howard Nelson at December 4, 2016 9:17 AM

And if when playing the poet I stutter here or there, I'd hold my tongue if not fearful of choking on my toothbrush. Part of my burden is wondering how to punctuate that other 'the.'
Whoa is me, say I, haltingly.

Posted by Howard Nelson at December 4, 2016 5:37 PM