My hut lies in the middle of a dense forest;
Every year the green ivy grows longer.
No news of the affairs of men,
Only the occasional song of a woodcutter.
The sun shines and I mend my robe.
When the moon comes out, I read Buddhist poems.
I have nothing to report my friends.
If you want to find meaning, stop chasing after so many things.
~ Ryokan
The news we hear is full of grief for that future,
but the real news inside here
is there's no news at all.
~ Jalaluddin Rumi
It is difficult
to get the news from poems
yet men die miserably every day
for lack
of what is found there.
~ William Carlos Williams
Every year the green ivy grows longer.
No news of the affairs of men,
Only the occasional song of a woodcutter.
The sun shines and I mend my robe.
When the moon comes out, I read Buddhist poems.
I have nothing to report my friends.
If you want to find meaning, stop chasing after so many things.
~ Ryokan
The news we hear is full of grief for that future,
but the real news inside here
is there's no news at all.
~ Jalaluddin Rumi
It is difficult
to get the news from poems
yet men die miserably every day
for lack
of what is found there.
~ William Carlos Williams
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