March 18^th, 2026

At a private gate,
A light snow falls;
Here the quietist’s aim
Is perfectly achieved.
Meditation proceeds
Through the day;
Only lone peaks
Compare in purity.
I’m at ease
In this insignificant dream;
Fir and bamboo
Stir in the cold.
There’s only one old man
On West Peak,
And when we meet,
His eyes shine clear.

Kuan Hsiu (832-912)