ארכיון הקטגוריה: English

poems from Levanda Zendo, Tel Aviv

The Final Touch

 

I loved you in the evenings

When you poured stillness even on invisible ants

The dark corners of the house came together

To shelter your head from the snow

You sat so beautiful in your gowns

Presenting us with the final touch

 

 

***

 

Memory Works

 

I don’t remember your name

Forgive me for allowing myself

To be drowned and rescued

By the thought of your hands

This is how memory works:

A distant summer shines

This corner of a table

***

Levanda st

*

Even Greater Cold

***

Udon
Or Soba?
He stops

No robe
No Buddhist name
No doubt

My bald head
In winter
Her kisses

The Cars
Along Enoshima
Night waves

Cold
Even greater cold
He hugs her

Kamakura
Bows to Fuji
I do the same

Empty garden
You see all
Just her

Not finding the way
Entering the path
Hokokuji temple

Nothing
Left untouched
Frozen pond

He holds her
Walking now
One shadow

Winter temple
Original reality
Needs gloves

本来真-Hata Egyoku Eiheiji zenji

***

His Master

A bald thin man plays with his cat                                                                               Two dark robes are laid on the chair by the little fire
The room is slowly freezing away
He tells me about his old temple
Where spring stretched deep into late June
And homeless Kōdō used to come and visit
"How long have you studied with him?" I ask
He brings the teapot and some pickles
Eyes smiling he says: "Take… this good for us"
I try to chew quietly

(Joenji temple, Nagano)