A lamp flickers with my sleeplessness.
Delicate scents of burning incense
Clear my senses. In the deep night
Thre great room is mystical. Bells
Tinkling in farthest corners tell me of wind.
Floating up from within the enclosed
Darkness of temple gardens come
Fragrances of spring flowers.
A few last stars in the Milky Way
Are sinking below my window.
Buddhist chants will soon resound
Through the cloisters. Better to stay
Late in bed and rise after the final bells
Than be up early trampling plowed fields
With sands and dust whirling around me.