In middle age I loved to walk the path of Buddhist lore.
A home I've made these latter years on Chung-nan's frontier hoar.
As prompts the mood I ever come to wander here alone,
Where all the pleasure that I find is mine and all mine own.
Some stream I follow to its source; and there I set me down
To watch the clouds come drifting up across the moun-tains brown.
Perchance some aged rustic may light upon me there:
Forgetting time we chat and laugh, oblivious of care.