sunday poesy

by layman k

Cold Mountain Poems
– Han Shan


I sit beneath the cliff, quiet and alone.
Round moon in the middle of the sky’s a bird ablaze:
all things are seen mere shadows in its brilliance,
that single wheel of perfect light …
Alone, its spirit naturally comes clear.
Swallowed in emptiness in this cave of darkest mystery,
because of the finger pointing, I saw the moon.
That moon became the pivot of my my heart.

(from Cold Mountain Poems, translated by J.P. Seaton)