Indigo blue hour— rain washes ancient wood; amber lanterns flare. Beneath one shared silk umbrella, two hearts warm in the cold mist. 薄紫の黄昏 藍の暮れ 雨は古木を洗う 灯は琥珀 一傘に寄れば 霧の胸あたたか Лиловый час Синева предночья. Дождь обмывает старые стволы, огни — как янтарь. Под одним зонтом прижаться — грудь теплеет в холодном тумане.
The student asked, “Was there a past?” The teacher pointed to the stone’s imprint. “There was,” said the student. “Show me the ‘was.’” Silence. भिक्षु पृच्छति – अतीतोऽभूद् वा आचार्यः शिला-लेखं निर्दिशति भिक्षु
Good can’t be driven with a whip. Good can’t be hauled with a rope. A horse yields to the lightest hand— and even that is a kind of force. A heart turns at a look— not from pressure, but from room. Water isn’t pushed; it settles where
Monk: — I can’t read these characters. Can I still love the writing? The Master drew one stroke. Monk: — I don’t understand the meaning. Master: — What is meaning? Silence. Master: — Meaning: a door with a sign. A stroke: a step without a name. Who reads, takes. Who sees, gives.
Pour the tea. For whom. What do you fear. Cannot pour. Cling. Sink. Already. Still. 茶を注げ 誰に 何を畏る 注げず 執る 沈む すでに 静 Налей чаю. Кому. Кого боишься. Не льётся. Держишь. Тонешь. Тишина.
Hold me, be with me. Keep me safe until the jazz begins. (Aquarium, Day of Silver) Pressed against the edge of dawn we lean into each other, waiting for the jazz to begin. In a quiet city at the edge of night, snow fell, becoming silence. Streetlights left small islands
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