The Dharma flourishes and decays, ages come and go:
So right yet so sad — the bright moon sets
behind the Western Pavilion.
Bliss and sorrow, love and hate, light and shadow,
hot and cold, joy and anger, self and other.
The enjoyment of poetic beauty may well lead to hell.
But look what we find strewn all along our Path:
Plum blossoms and peach flowers!