The number of days since I left the world and
Entrusted myself to Heaven is long forgotten.
Yesterday, sitting peacefully in the green mountains;
This morning, playing with the village children.
My robe is full of patches and
I cannot remember how long I have had the same bowl for begging.
On clear nights I walk with my staff and chant poems;
During the day I spread out a straw mat and nap.
Who says many cannot lead such a life?
Just follow my example.
-John Stevens, trans. "One Robe, One Bowl: The Zen Poetry of Ryokan." New York: Weatherhill, 1977. Pg. 55.