At dawn sitting in the zen garden ,
meditating on the tasty fruits of youth,
the imperious solar resin ,
long luscious vineyard ...
And life goes by building temple
on the wind .
At noon,sitting on the zen garden,
in the melancholy of a dying summer,
truth lost on the eightfold path ,
I killed the Buddha to be reborn.
In the evening ,sitting in the zen garden
having become a lamp of wisdom,
I closed the book of enlightenment.
But how to recognize the wise man
in the crowd of fools ?
In the morning the zen garden
will have flowers of impermanence,
but that doesn\'t matter ...
I wont be there ,on the Himalaya
having tea with the goddess...