Mañjuśrī rides a lion.
Samantabhadra straddles the elephant king.
Mañjughoṣa manifests a lotus throne.
Vimalakīrti lays in a bed.
Resting after begging for food in the city.
After much trouble I carry my sack and return.
Do I know where to return?
My home is on the edge of the white cloud.
At a farmhouse after the windy rain,
Chrysanthemums on the hedges, a few branches remain.
The young wife strains cloudy wine,
A small child tugs on my robes.
When I think back to my youth,
Reading books in an empty hall,
Repeatedly adding oil to the lamp's flame.
I am still not weary of the length of winter nights.
- Ryōkan Taigu 良寛大愚 (1758-1831)