When the Man of Tao left the mountain,
The mountain turned as gray as ashes;
The white clouds hid away their smiles,
And the blue pines were filled with grief.
Suddenly came news of the Man of Tao’s return,
And bird’s song burst open the mountain valleys.
A divine light radiates from his precious temples,
And a dharma rain washes away the swirling dust.

Time is passing every moment;
How can you be complacent and waste it,
Seeing death is but a breath away?

At first sight of the peach blossoms
No further doubts.
As before, my eyebrows
Extend over my eyes.
Since I fade as do the blossoms
What need to complain and complain.
The earth is broad, the heavens high
I know myself.

Last year in a lovely temple in Hirosawa,
This year among the rocks of Nikko,
All’s the same to me:
Clapping hands, the peaks roar at the blue!

With the moon emerged,
My mind is motionless.
Sitting on this frosty seat,
No further dream of fame.
The forest, the mountain
Follow their ancient ways,
And through the long spring day,
Not even a shadow of a bird.