Without tracks, No news. The white clouds are rootless - What colour is the pure breeze? Spreading the canopy of the sky, mindless, Holding the carriage of the earth, powerful; Illumining the profound source of a thousand ages, Making patterns for ten thousand forms. Meetings for enlightenment in the atoms of all lands - in each place is Samantabhadra: The door of the tower opens - everywhere is Maitreya.