VISITING THE TAOIST PRIEST ON THE MOUNTAIN WHICH UPHOLDS HEAVEN. HE IS ABSENT

A dog, A dog barking. And the sound of rushing water. How dark and rich the peach-flowers after the rain. Every now and then, between the trees, I see deer. Twelve o'clock, but I hear no bell in the ravine. Wild bamboos slit the blue-green of a cloudy sky, The waterfall hangs against the jade-green peak. There is no one to tell me where he has gone. I lean against the pine-trees grieving.