Picture and poem for Alison and her extended family.
In my mirror,
birth and old age
sickness and death
reflect,
Sour and sweet
bitter and hot,
true sweet dew.Into the four forms,
my body disintegrates,
earth and fire
water and wind;
emptiness.
But like the Buddha’s kindnessI am everywhere.
Excerpt from a poem by Tsung tsai, translated by George Crane from Bones of the Master.
…and for all those who find themselves in extremity.
Ah, wonderful poem from an interesting and engaging book.
I always wondered where Tsung tsai got to after the events in this book. He turns up briefly in the beginning of the next book by George Crane, but then that’s it. Gone. Or ‘everywhere’.
_/\_