Irish coffee
warms my soul
while watching rain
on the hills
to the east
beyond
rainy morning
Written for Master Chan’s Room at the Double Bamboo Temple by Su Tung-p’o
Strike your own evening drum, morning bell,
then shut the door. Lamp burning low by a solitary pillow;
gray ashes where just now you stirred the stove to red.
Lie and listen to raindrops spattering the window.
translated by Burton Watson