Buddhist Chant
Zheng Chouyu

After three thousand years of wandering
He has at last taken off his wanderer’s shoes on the westernmost peak
And the gate is closed Intermittent knocking is heard on the animal-head ring
Who has returned standing on the front steps?
Who has returned, having trailed every star and holding his bowl?
Then an ancient hoary male voice is heard
Sounding from the jingle of the inverted bell

Now that he is back at the mountain gate he takes his time entering
He recalls the ferrying the drinking and the pecking
And turns around to look once more
At the world of six times seven
(Oh bells and drums the wondrous forty-two syllables of the magic tara)
The evening prayer of the first day begins in holding the incense
Letting the wooden fish swim forth from the lotus under the tongue
My soul
Is neither far nor near