there be no final resting place,
how can there be
a way to lose ourselves in?
shakyamuni,
that mischievous creature,
having appeared in the world,
misled, alas,
how many people!
the mind --
what shall we call it?
it is the sound of the breeze
that blows through the pines
in the indian-ink picture.
the mind remaining
just as it was born --
without any prayer
it becomes the buddha.
tell a lie,
and you fall into hell.
then what will happen to buddha
who contrived
things that don't exist?
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