Zen Buddhism and Martial Arts
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Author of this poem:
Zen Master Hsu Yun
PASSING THE WINTER AT YUNHUA BUT NOT MEETING UP WITH MY FRIEND
I came to this place where the trees are confusingly thick.
Suddenly in the arched vault of the forest I found a path.
I passed that stone... the one below the green pavilion.
There was frost on the leaves and the branch tips were bare and red.
Who was it who carved those emotional words in the rock?
I waited. Ah... All feelings,
Are they not just emptiness of "me"?
The Chan gates both rest quietly now
With the plum trees and the grasses
Awaiting the winds of Spring.
