On the other side of the bridge
the leaves slided down
– dry on the water –
have reappeared without
any other wood sound.
Originally posted in Italian on March 30, 2008 at 21:23
Mu
Two messy eyebrows
one little childhood scar.
The skyline on the sand
and four drops of green tea.
So one writes blank.
Friday, May 2, 2008
On the other side of the bridge
Labels:
apocryphal zen,
more zen poetry
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment