Zen Buddhism and Martial Arts

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Author of this poem:

Zen Master Hsu Yun


We went up across the ridge for the fun of it.

Didn't need to pack any more wine.

On the precipice, flowers opened, smiling.

By the river, willows grew bright.

In the drizzling rain the village smoke congealed, concealed.

The wind was slight and the grass was cool.

There in the woods' underbrush, startled,

We suddenly heard a dog bark.

It wanted us to know the Master was aware.

Humming Bird
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