Returning to my native village after many years’ absence:
Ill, I put up at a country inn and listen to the rain.
One robe, one bowl is all I have.
I light incense and strain to sit in meditation;
All night a steady drizzle outside the dark window --
Inside, poignant memories of these long years of pilgrimage.
Ryokan
Fill your bowl to the brim and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife and it will blunt.
Lao Tzu
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