sakyamuni comming out from the mountian
he drags his bare feet
out of a cave
under a tree
eyebrows
grown long with weeping
and hooknosed woe,
in ragged soft robes
wearing a fine beard,
unhappy hands
clasped to his naked breast-
humility is beatness
humility is beatness-
faltering
into the bushes by a stream,
all things inanimate
but his intelligence-
stands up right there
tho trembling:
arhat
who sought heaven
under a mountian of stone,
sat thinking
till hie realized
the land of blessedness exists
in the imagination-
the flash to come:
empty mirror-
how painful to be born again
wearing a fine beard,
reentering the world
a bitter wrech of a sage:
earth before him his only path.
we can see his soul,
he knows nothing
like a god:
shaken
meek wretch-
humility is beatness
before the absolute world.
new york public library, 1953