Cold Mountain Poem Twenty Three by Han-Shan.

Translated by Gary

Snyder.

My home was at Cold Mountain from the start,
Rambling among the hills, far from trouble.

Gone, and a million things leave no trace
Loosed, and it flows through the galaxies
A fountain of light, into the very mind -
Not a thing, and yet it appears before me:
Now I know the pearl of the Buddha - Nature
Know its use: A boundless perfect sphere.