At the crossroads this year, afterbegging all dayI lingered at the village temple.Children gather round me andwhisper,‘The crazy monk has come backto play.’

How can I possibly sleepThis moonlit evening?Come, my friends,Let’s sing and danceAll night long.

When I was a lad,I sauntered about town as a gay blade,Sporting a cloak of the softest down,And mounted on a splendid chestnut-coloured horse.During the day, I galloped to the…

“When, when?” I sighed.The one I longed forHas finally come;With her now,I have all that I need.

This treasure was discovered in a bamboo thicket —I washed the bowl in a spring and then mended it.After morning meditation, I take my gruel in it;At night, it serves…

You stop to point at the moon in the sky,but the finger’s blind unless the moon is shining. One moon, one careless finger pointing —are these two things or one?…

Like the little streamMaking its wayThrough the mossy crevicesI, too, quietlyTurn clear and transparent.

My house is buried in the deepest recess of the forestEvery year, ivy vines grow longer than the year before.Undisturbed by the affairs of the world I live at ease,Woodmen’s…

When spring arrivesFrom every tree tipFlowers will bloom,But those childrenWho fell with last autumn’s leavesWill never return.

In the morning, bowing to all;In the evening, bowing to all.Respecting others is my only duty–Hail to the Never-despising Bodhisattva. In heaven and earth he stands alone. A real monkNeedsOnly…