Monday, March 21, 2022

Ts’ai-ken t’an

 The wind blows through a bamboo grove, and the trunks clatter together. When it has passed, the grove is silent once more. Geese crossing the sky are reflected in a cold, deep pool. When they are gone, no trace remains. For the sage, when something comes, it appears in the mind. When it goes, the mind returns to the void.


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