Every day priests minutely examine the Dharma

and endlessly chant complicated sutras.

Before doing that, though,

they should learn how to read the love letters

sent by the wind and the rain,

the snow and the moon.

---

A meal of fresh octopus:

lots of arms, just like Kannon the Goddess

Sacrificed for me, garnished with citron--I revere it so!

The taste of the sea, just divine!

Sorry, Buddha,

this is another precept

I just cannot keep.

---

My real dwelling

has no pillars

and no roof either

so rain cannot soak it

and wind cannot blow it down.

---

Even if I were a god or a buddha you'd be on my mind.

I sit beneath the lamp, a skinny monk chanting love songs.

The fierce autumn wind nearly bowls me over

and my heart is choked with thick clouds.

---

Day and night I cannot keep you out of my thoughts.

In the darkness, on an empty bed, the longing deepens.

I dream of us joining hands, exchanging words of love.

But then the dawn bell

shatters my reverie

and rends my heart.

from "Wild Ways: Zen poems of Ikkyu"