Shundo David Haye – Zen Priest

A spring wind brought gentle rain,
Soaking the grass roof during the night.
Sleeping below in peace,
How does the dweller know
The happenings of the floating world?
At daylight, as blue mountains appear,
Spring birds begin their song on the branches of trees.
I, too, leave my hermitage to wander
With no particular place to go.
A stream supplies water to the distant village,
Radiant flowers shine on the green mountains.
Who is that old man leading the ox?
Whose son carries the hoe?
The four seasons revolve without cease,
In each season, each person does his own work.
Ah! What do I do?
I simply stand for a long time at the gate
Of my hometown.