24 Jul
Posted in: Poems
By    Comments Off on Ask. Answer.

Ask. Answer.

I ask and you answer.
When I do not ask, you do not answer.

What can it be then that is in your heart,
O Lord Bodhidharma?

And what is it, the heart?
It is the sound of the pine breeze
there in the ink painting on the wall.

— Ikkyu

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