When you, O wild monk,
come to say good-bye,
we sit for a while
by the sandy creek.
On far roads,
you hold out an empty bowl;
deep in mountains,
walk on fallen flowers.
Having no masters, you
puzzle out Zen on your own;
observing strict prosody,
your poems merit praise.
This going-away
has no circumstantial cause;
a solitary cloud
has no fixed home.
- Original Poem title: Farewell to a Monk by Chia Tao, translation by Mike O'Connor, from the book: Where the World does Not Follow - Buddhist China in Picture and Poem
This going-away
has no circumstantial cause;
a solitary cloud
has no fixed home.
