the world rolls right on

 

 

 

 

 

 

mountain sounds carry a chill wisdom
an upwelling spring whispers subtle tales
pine breezes stir the fire beneath my tea
bamboo shadows soak deep into my robe

I grind my ink: clouds scraping across the crags
copy out a verse: birds settling on branches
as the world rolls right on by
its every turn tracing out non-action

 

 

 

 

 

~ Shih Shu 

English version by James H. Sanford

from  The Clouds Should Know Me By Now: 

Buddhist Poet Monks of China

 Edited by Red Pine 

with thanks to Poetry Chaikhana