(1884–1918)
Having Hope, or Holding On
IN this life, how could I hope
to become a Buddha?
Hermit dreams are undependable
and my desires still unconquered.
Many thanks, my friend
for all your kind inquiries,
but I suspect my fate’s to be
just a poet-monk.
[J.P.S.]
From Japan
SPRING rain on the pagoda roof,
and the shakuhachi’s sound.
Will I ever see the Chekiang tidal bore again?
Grass sandals, broken bowl, and no one knows.
Treading on cherry blossoms, I will trudge
across yet one more bridge.
[J.P.S.]