There are no fixed limits
Time does not stand still.
Nothing endures,
Nothing is final.

You cannot lay hold
Of the end or the beginning.
He who is wise sees near and far
As the same,
Does not despise the small
Or value the great:

Where all standards differ
How can you compare?

With one glance
He takes in past and present,
Without sorrow for the past
Or impatience with the present.
All is in movement.

He has experience
Of fullness and emptiness.
He does not rejoice in success
Or lament in failure
The game is never over
Birth and death are even

The terms are not final.

Written by Chuang Tzu (550-250 B.C.)

Like a fool, like a dunce,
Body and mind completely dropped off!

Zen Master Ryokan

Truly, I love this life of seclusion.
Carrying my staff, I walk toward a friend's cottage.
The trees in his garden, soaked by the evening rain,
Reflect the cool, clear autumnal sky.

The owner's dog comes to greet me;
Chrysanthemums bloom along the fence.
These people have the same spirit as the ancients;
An earthen wall marks their separation from the world.

In the house volumes of poetry are piled on the floor.
Abondoning wordliness, I often come to this tranquil place.

The spirit here is the spirit of Zen.

Zen Master Ryokan

Once again, many greedy people appear
No different from silkworms wrapped in cocoons.

Wealth and riches are all they love,
Never giving their minds or bodies a moment's rest.

Every year their natures deteriorate
While their vanity increases.

One morning death comes before
They can use even half their money.

Others happily receive the estate,
And the deceased's name is soon lost in darkness.

For such people there can only be great pity.

Zen Master Ryokan

My hut lies in the middle of a dense forest;
Every year the green ivy grows longer.
No news of the affairs of men,
Only the occasional song of a woodcutter.

The sun shines and I mend my robe;
When the moon comes out I read Buddhist poems.

I have nothing to report, my friends.
If you want to find the meaning, stop chasing after so many things.

Zen Master Ryokan

The rain has stopped, the clouds have drifted away, and the weather is clear again.

If your heart is pure, then all things in your world are pure.

Abandon this fleeting world, abandon yourself, then the moon and flowers will guide you along the Way.

Zen Master Ryokan (1758-1831)

Our love was like a wild canyon
flowing with forever.
She left me!

The woman of my dreams
Escaping to the deep end of a bottle

I awoke one day
To a warm, moist, furry
Cat.

Snuggled against my face
This is my real love.