O traveler,
You came all alone
at the end of the night
when the jasmine flowers fell.

Seeing my door closed,
You stood by the wayside.
My eyes were half closed in sleep,
some things I could see,
and some things I could not.

Then, You went away at dawn,
wet with mist at the end of night,
floating in the infinite void.

The jasmine creeper at my door
still carries the message of Your arrival.
Removing its drops of dew,
it remains awake, ever waiting for You.

If at that time I had opened my door
and whispered a word in Your ear,
on that autumn midnight,
I would have floated aloft
and mingled myself in Your melody.

---------------------------------

O Traveler, You came alone at dawn.
When You arrived,
the shiuli flowers fell to the ground.

Finding my door closed,
You remained standing by the roadside.
My eyes were sleepy,
Some things I could see, some things not.
Then You left in the dew drenched dawn,
disappearing into the formless.

The jasmine creeper at my door
still carries Your message.
As the morning dew disappears,
remains in me the hope of Your return.

If my door had been open,
I could have spoken to You
and merged myself in the flow of Your melody.