In a tangle of mountains
In autumn trees, a cave.
Hidden within,
A magic dragon pearl.
Poplar and cassia
Overlook a blue sea;
Rare fragrances waft
From a stone pagoda.
A monk since youth
You still have no white hairs;
You enter upon meditation,
In a frost-streaked robe.
Here there is no talk
Of the world’s affairs
Those matters that make
Wild the hearts of people.