“
The water murmurs
in the old stone well,
And, a rippling mirror,
gives back the clear blue sky.
The river roars,
swollen with the late rains of spring.
On the cool, jade green grass
the golden sunshine
splashes.
Sometimes, at early dawn,
I climb
even as far as Lien Shan Temple.
In the spring
I plow the thirsty field,
that it may drink new life.
I eat a little,
I work a little,
each day my hair grows thinner,
and it seems,
I lean ever a bit more heavily
on my old thornwood cane
”
”