Be natural


Into a soul absolutely free
From thoughts and emotion,
Even the tiger finds no room
To insert its fierce claws
One and the same breeze passes
Over the pines on the mountain
And the oak tress in the valley;
And why do they give different notes
No thinking, no reflecting,
Perfect emptiness;
Yet therein something moves,
Following its own course
The eye sees it,
But no hand can take hold of it –
The moon in the stream
Clouds and mists
They are midair transformations;
Above them eternally shine the sun and the moon
Victory is for the one,
Even before combat,
Who has no thought of himself,
Abiding is the no-mind-ness of Great Origin.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s