By mistake, on the right path

 One.
Hazy windowpane glass…
In just such a haze—
life plays…willingly or unwillingly.


Does being lost
mean being lost at all?
It's in staying behind
that we lose!
Staying and losing as much as possible—
can we ever really drift
so far by truly disappearing?


Two.
Once they were distant strangers,
so they couldn't sit side by side in the rickshaw.
In time they became—
close to each other,
then they sat hand in hand in the rickshaw…


Later, they grew distant again,
then they could no longer sit together.
Eventually, they became so distant that—
they could once more sit side by side in the rickshaw with ease!


Three.
The very close and the very distant relationships—
meet like this at some point
on life's timeline.


Now, this dislike-unlove-pettiness-irritation…
this strange heavy feeling made of all these things,
if I call it hatred,
then after years and years, even in so much hatred—
does the hatred never run out?


Someone inside speaks up…
Love…have you been able to exhaust that either?
Hearing this, I fall silent. Completely silent!


Loves and hatreds live on—
belonging to someone or other.
Only life runs out in the meanwhile!
One day, the world too will surely end!


Four.
This knowing I have,
that there is no such thing as you…
you are merely my
unsatisfied and bizarre imagination!


All around—
thick darkness entirely!
Where light never descends, nothing else remains,
always…I am used to it.
I dwell with silence!


So at the sudden arrival
of you-who-are-not
I startle terribly!


That fierce storm
that tears away
all coverings of mind and body with ease…
when I am completely naked,
I remain still,
with steady eyes.


All truth is false to me,
or all falsehoods are truth!
I know perfectly well—
you are not.
Yet they say,
you exist!
I can see you clearly!
Indeed, I can touch you directly!


Still I know—
all lies…such lies!


Five.
There's no point in making
elaborate arrangements to give life a holiday,
life is actually always on holiday!


All these deaths every moment—
setting up their wares to give life a holiday
waiting in silent expectation…
what more certain, unburdened holiday
could there be?


Six.
Feet and wings,
both rush forward
in the same circular motion,
to the same destination.
Sometimes in the same circle…
toward the unknown!


People often cry one sorrow's tears—
for another sorrow.
But at day's end
we can't fool ourselves anymore.


Seven.
The other shore will never know
if this shore's love…touched the sky.
This shore will know only
whether the other shore's unlove
spread wide as the sea.


Yet staying in this unknown
we must suddenly cross
to a strange unknown…unprepared!


Thinking such things—
feels no good at all!


Eight.
Those who fear loneliness
become lonely first of all!
The more one fears losing,
the more one loses!


Meanwhile, one who wants to walk alone
finds the whole world's people tugging at their hand!


Nine.
Let those who want to be alone, be alone.
Let those who want to make others alone, do so.


Those essential for moving through this world
belong to neither of the above two groups.


Living in unrest is more painful than living without love!
Alas, people don't understand even this much!
Without understanding, they torture in love's name!


Ten.
Often while speaking, I suddenly see
the one I'm saying so much to doesn't actually exist!


Let's say perhaps everything has become past…
yet sometime I realize
actually it's—not even past…merely an imaginary past!


Swaying in such oscillation of an 'invisible' existence, doubt creeps into the mind—
is the creation of feeling also imaginary then?
Those countless words that carry the mind's thoughts into such open expression…
are they all imaginary? Invisible?


This handful of water or fire that can be touched,
is this too false? Merely imaginary?


If everything is indeed imaginary,
then in the movement or stillness of the mind's feelings…
no difference remains at all!


Whether feelings are expressed or hidden deep in the heart,
all is then one!
In destitution or emptiness…feelings therefore often fall silent!


This returning again and again even in all this destitution…
seeing this, I think everything in this world is truly empty!
So we mustn't hold onto resentment too long in emptiness.


That heart or hearts
that make you want to live a thousand years when blessed,
may such a heart—
in a love-soaked, tender voice say to you:
I love you! Stay well!