November 16th, 2017
Chang Jian (708-765)
I enter the old temple at dawn
As the rising sun shines upon the lofty pines.
Through the bamboos a secluded path winds
To a Zen court in the depths of flowers and trees.
The birds rejoice in the mountain air
And reflected pools cleanse the heart.
The hubbub of the world is hushed
But the bell's chime lingers on.