From Master Han Shan

How pitiful are people, for their transitory life.

Forever working, is there ever an end?

Day after day, no free time;

Year after year, unaware of getting old.

Working so hard, just for food and clothing,

Causing the mind to have all these afflictions.

Restless for hundreds or thousands of years,

Coming and going in the three evil paths of existence.



A poem from Great Master Han Shan