This body’s existence is like a bubble’s
May as well accept what happens
Events and hopes seldom agree
But who can step back doesn’t worry
We blossom and fade like flowers
gather and part like clouds
worldly thoughts I forgot long ago
withering away on a mountain peak.
Nothing is better than being free,
but getting free is not luck.
Not one care in mind all year
I find enough joy every day in my hut
and after a meal and a pot of strong tea
I sit on a rock by a pond and count fish.
Like following a road where it is set and familiar,
then we think that is all there is.