We set out, drift and wander wherever our beguiled whims take us,
no need to pretend our walking-sticks might meet at some bridge.
When ch’an mind opens, you can’t ignore all this quiet emptiness.
And even old, with our crystalline bones of Tao, why fear the cold?
translated by David Hinton
Beautiful!
I agree.
I can easily spend many hours reading such beautiful poetry as this.
I do actually.
I am envious.