@Very-Rusty saidIf the limerick is anonymous, what does it matter?
@Ghost,
And I put the site down that you obtained it from. 😉
-VR
I had already made clear I was not the author (with the Anon).
@Ghost-of-a-Duke said@Ghost,
If the limerick is anonymous, what does it matter?
I had already made clear I was not the author (with the Anon).
You got it from a limericks Site! You could have just said that!!! 😉
-VR
@Ghost-of-a-Duke saidThank goodness everyone else on the planet understands the meaning of Anon, making crystal clear I am not the limericks author.
A funny young fellow named Perkins
Was terribly fond of small gherkins.
One day after tea
He ate ninety-three
And pickled his internal workings.
Anon
A cold evening in my empty room;
Time flows by like the incense smoke arising.
Outside my door,
A thousand stalks of bamboo,
Above my bed, how many books?
The moon has come to whiten
Half my window,
The only sound in any direction
Is the singing of insects.
In this there is boundless feeling,
But as I encounter it,
There are no words.
~ Ryokan
Grasses bury the river bank,
Rain darkens the village;
The temple is lost in tall bamboo
I can’t find the gate.
They’re gathering wood and brewing herbs
They’ve swept the ground and burned incense
It cleans my spirit.
Farm work not finished,
Though we’re into little snow;
Lamps lit before the Buddha,
Signal of dusk
Lately I’ve developed a taste for the quiet life.
~ Su Tung-p’o (1072)
The source of phenomena, of samsara, and nirvana
Is the true nature of one’s own mind:
An immense expanse that is an empty, brilliance,
Completely free of taking things as real.
This I have realized.
If I look towards the one who realizes this,
One’s own awareness,
It is like the sky.
Set free, beyond clinging
In the unborn expanse of the
Ultimate nature of mind.
~ Shakbar (1781-1851)
The wind arises in the remotest corners of the world.
It circulates through the hills and marshes,
then wafts across embankments and roads,
always expanding and permeating,
until it finally flows against your windows, railings,
and inner curtains, never to depart.
When you lean back on your chair and observe it,
is there not something to be learned from it?
Its force comes from whatever it runs up against.
It does not exert itself and so is never tired.
Its shape comes from what it encounters.
It does not take on its own shape and so is never exhausted.
~ Su Tung-Po (1037–1101)
*for the physics guys who would dearly enjoy pointing out how wind is created
be my guest
If you stop thinking of myriad things,
and cast aside all thoughts,
as soon as one instant of thought is cut off,
you will be reborn in another realm.
The Dharma of no-thought means:
even though you see all things,
you do not attach to them, but,
always keeping your own nature pure,
cause the six thieves (the fields of the senses)
to exist through the six gates.
Even though you are in the midst of the six dusts,
you do not stand apart from them,
yet are not stained by them,
and are free to come and go.
The Platform Sutra