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Ryokan - When all thoughts

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Sent by Ivan- his notes are always great.

 

 

Here's your Daily Poem from the Poetry Chaikhana --

 

 

 

 

 

When all thoughts

By Ryokan(1758 - 1831)

English version by John Stevens

When all thoughtsAre exhaustedI slip into the woodsAnd gatherA pile of shepherd's purse.Like the little streamMaking its wayThrough the mossy crevicesI, too, quietlyTurn clear and transparent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

-- from Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf: Zen Poems of Ryokan, Translated by John Stevens

Amazon.com / Photo by digicla /

 

 

 

 

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Thought for the Day:

Don't rush through the journey, impatient only for its end. The adventure is your soul's story.

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Here's your Daily Music selection --

Elizabeth Reian Bennett

Song of the True Hand

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Hi Alan -First, let me apologize for missing Monday's poem. A mild virus decided to set up temporary residence in my body. A few days of conversation, and then I sent him on his way...(Interesting side note: I often dream of ants a few days before an illness. In my personal dream vocabulary, ants have come to embody mild viruses.)==Now, to Ryokan... Like Han-shan in China, Ryokan is loved in Japan as much for his antics as for his profound poetry.Ryokan became a priest at age 18 and took to a life of wandering. He eventually met his teacher, Kokusen Roshi, and settled down to study Zen practice, ultimately becoming his most esteemed student. When Kokusen Roshi died, Ryokan inherited his temple. But the duties and regularity of being temple master didn't suit Ryokan, and

he resumed his itinerant life.He next settled in a small hut he called Gogo-an on Mt. Kugami, where he lived by begging.Ryokan's love of children and animals are legendary. He often played games with the local children, attested to in his own poetry. His reputation for gentleness was sometimes carried to comical extremes. One tale is told that, one day when Ryokan returned to his hut he discovered a robber who had broken in and was in the process of stealing the impoverished monk's few possessions. In the thief's haste to leave, he left behind a cushion. Ryokan grabbed the cushion and ran after the thief to give it to him. This event prompted Ryokan to compose one of his best known poems:The thief left it behind:the moonat my window.==I really like the way this poem opens...When all thoughtsAre exhaustedI slip into the woodsAnd gatherA pile of shepherd's

purse.Ryokan gives us a sense of thoughts finally tiring of themselves and falling silent. And only then does it occur to him to enter the woods -- a monk, in his quiet, moving slowly among the trees in search of his simple meal of shepherd's purse (an edible wild herb).But it's that second verse that really awakens:Like the little streamMaking its wayThrough the mossy crevicesI, too, quietlyTurn clear and transparent.He has movement, yes, but it is effortless flow. His entire life at that moment is transparent, completely clear, free from self and the silting of mind. The question lingers: Shall we too slip into the woods?Have a beautiful day!Ivan

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