Years ago, I retired to rest,
Did some modest building in
this crinkle of the mountain.
Here in the woods, no noise,
no trash; In front of my eaves,
a stream of pure water.
In the past I hoped to profit
by opening books; now
I’m used to playing games in
the dirt. What is there that is
not a child’s pastime?
Confucius, Lao Tzu -
a handful of sand.
(Ishikawa Jozan)
