In my house there is a cave
in the cave there's nothing at all
pure emptiness       really wonderful
glorious and splendid       bright as the sun

* * *

Despite the obstacles I pursued the great monk
the misty mountains a million layers high
he pointed to the road back home
one round moon lantern of the sky

* * *

I laugh at myself, old man, with no strength left
inclined to piney peaks, in love with lonely paths
oh well, I've wandered down the years to now
free in the flow; and floated home the same
            a drifting boat .

* * *

cloudy mountains, fold on fold ,
            how many thousands of them ?
shady valley road runs deep, all trace of man is gone
green torrents, pure clear flow, no place more full of beauty
and time, and time, birds sing
            my own heart's harmony.

* * *

Han Shan, c. 730 AD, A drifting boat - An Anthology of Chinese Zen Poetry