Dogen at Celestial Lad Temple

Tian Tong’s first phrase of midwinter. Old plum tree bent and gnarled, All at once, opens one blossom, two blossoms, three, four, five blossoms. Uncountable blossoms.  Not proud of their purity. Not proud of fragrance. Spreading, becoming spring. Blowing over grass and trees, balding the head of a patch-robed monk. Whirling, changing into wind, wild rain, falling snow, all over the earth. The old plum tree is boundless. A hard cold rubs the nostrils. Dogen  (1985) trans. by Kaz Tanahashi in Moon in a Dewdrop