A land not mine, still
By Anna Akhmatova
(1889 - 1966)
English version by Jane Kenyon
A land not mine, still
forever memorable,
the waters of its ocean
chill and fresh.
Sand on the bottom whiter than chalk,
and the air drunk, like wine,
late sun lays bare
the rosy limbs of the pinetrees.
Sunset in the ethereal waves:
I cannot tell if the day
is ending, or the world, or if
the secret of secrets is inside me again.
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[52] From my youth I piled studies upon studies, (from The Shodoka)
By Yoka Genkaku (Yongjia Xuanjue)
(665 - 713)
English version by Robert Aitken
From my youth I piled studies upon studies,
In sutras and sastras I searched and researched,
Classifying terms and forms, oblivious to fatigue.
I entered the sea to count the sands in vain
And then the Tathagata scolded me kindly
As I read "What profit in counting your neighbor's treasure?"
My work had been scattered and entirely useless,
For years I was dust blown by the wind.
Poetry Chaikhana
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