The path to the meditation hallIs steep and perilous;I look back to viewThe upper watershed. A woodcutter’s trail linksAll the peaks;A boulder-choked creekFlows through bamboo. In deep woods,Snow still lingers;In foothills,Gibbons have not yet cried. Desiring to part fromThe bitterness in the world,I seek some wordsFrom the Master.
The path to the meditation hallIs steep and perilous;I look back to viewThe upper watershed.
A woodcutter’s trail linksAll the peaks;A boulder-choked creekFlows through bamboo.
In deep woods,Snow still lingers;In foothills,Gibbons have not yet cried.
Desiring to part fromThe bitterness in the world,I seek some wordsFrom the Master.
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