Off the Cliff

I don't get around to no-sword's blog often enough, because the reminder of how much Japanese I don't know, will never know, and/or have forgotten, is depressing. But sometimes one discovers delights, like the poems of a failed hermit-poet of the late Tang.

I don't stay at the summit that long myself
The air's too thin, it's not good for you
So there I sleep, far below the clouds
With a pillow for my pillow and a nice soft blanket

See also, and again, why I shall never be a Buddhist. Lack of pillows and nice soft blankets, also having to get up at 3 am, also not eating after noon.