Flourish and ruin keep leaving each other,
but no-mind stays, dark-enigma’s fruition.
The bloom of youth scatters steadily away
and grandeur crumbles to its tranquil end,
but mountain streams continue here in this
green pine you brought to this courtyard,
deep snows showing off its radiant beauty
and cold blossoms its kingfisher-greens.
At dawn, even a pure recluse must yearn:
now, I just invite clear wind for company.
translated by David Hinton