On a journey, ill:
my dream goes wandering
over withered fields
- Basho
My old body:
a drop of dew grown
heavy at the leaf tip
- Kiba, 19th century
Empty-handed I entered the world
Barefoot I leave it.
My coming, my going —
Two simple happenings
That got entangled.
- Zen master Kozan Ichikyo, 1360
Zen and the poetry of death
How moving....
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