Response Without Expectation

At the wharf of waiting, my boat drops anchor today,
In the temple's empty courtyard, to find the deity worshipped there,
The boon I should have asked for—that boon I could never ask,
So I have come to this shore, mooring my little boat.

No, today there is no backward pull,
I have set down all my burden on the other shore.
From beyond the ice-cold door
Of that small wooden house, I have returned today forever.

How weightless I feel today,
I have lit the evening lamp,
The wick waits expectant…
But it does not know yet
That waiting—no, anticipation—is its destiny!

The temple's deity belongs in the mortal world,
Not in some hapless woman's little hut.
Though that hapless woman's lips hold purity,
Her understanding lacks such depth of ripeness.
Silently arranging offerings, between prayers
To feel her solitary presence—
That alone is her fate.
So today, anticipation of rambling conversation
Is her only refuge!

What loss is there in that?
If this is all her existence amounts to,
What would remain in the ledger of loss!
There are only some unspoken comforts, joys!

Some wind comes today to the heart's dwelling,
Swaying in lonely secrecy.
A hundred years of mountain-heavy sorrows
Today cry out their presence in what lamentation.

Meeting day's eyes with mine, night becomes touch-tender!
This dawn seems like a birthing chamber
Of all weeping women's anguish!

Today at my time of departure, all this weight of pain
I have carefully brought to this approaching twilight hour.
Just this much...my expectationless answer
To some silent, cool seeker of truth!