NewZealandCoach’s Weblog

My hut lies in the middle of a dense forest;

Every year the ivy grows longer.

No news of the affairs of men,

Only the occasional song of a woodcutter.

The sun shines and I mend my robe;

When the moon comes out I read Buddhist poems.

I have nothing to report, my friends,

If you want to find the meaning, stop chasing after so many things.

Ryokan (hermit-monk, c. 1758-1831).

Hope your long weekend has started well