Evening Bell from Misty Temple
Cold mist, sparse;
old temple, pure.
Close to dusk, the man so tranquil
worships Buddha.
With west wind, three, four strokes
of the temple bell:
how can the old monk ever meditate?
old temple, pure.
Close to dusk, the man so tranquil
worships Buddha.
With west wind, three, four strokes
of the temple bell:
how can the old monk ever meditate?
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