A thousand dharmas come back to one, where does one go?

A ZEN KOAN

*

A small stream in the mountain

Flows steadily

Into a lake without a sound

Fish swim

Water remains at the same level

A kingfisher

Still perches

On a nearby tree top

At the throat of the outpouring stream

Waves gently expand in circles

And fade

The lake bottom is infinitely silent

As the mountain moves with the water.

*

A black fruit

Ripened high in the sky

Where lotuses

And chrysanthemums are blooming

My hair and shoulders are white

My stalk

Begins to turn yellow

Black areas are shrinking

Vanishing quickly

A hand

Buries me in a pit

Needing no water

I grow as a sapling in the desert.

*

I am a ceramic vase opening its mouth

To the outside world

Inside me

A garden is incubating seedlings

Early sunlight soaking

Each plant root

On a river bank

My feet touch the tide ebbing beneath

On a rising tide

Fish and shrimps just let go

Without swimming

A boat floats with no one paddling

I cannot sit for long

Water tapping on the sides of this boat

Birds calling from high above

Someone knocks hard

On the side of the vase.

*

A grandiose drop of water

Lying in a deep well

Concerto No. 1 in D minor by J.S. Bach

Falls into the well

Small drops of water

Carry green light

The green of rice seedlings

Seeds

Banana buds

A field of young mulberry

It’s the season of chlorophyll

Born out of water drops

In the shape of green eggs

Swelling

Overflowing the ground.

*

A glass of water

Is placed in front of the candle

Colorless light

Dropped from above

Shows the way for water to settle

The more transparent I become

Spike trap

Black arrows

Escape

From my soles and palms.

*

New day on the coast

The waves have receded

Leaving behind a clean stone slab

Somebody has come to step

And sit on it

Bird feces

And dust settling on it

At night

Water rises again and washes it

The sea

Is patient

In years.

*

I sit down

And drop flowers on water

Releasing them

On a surface vast

And clear

Bells

Ring through my body

Into the depth of water

Dong!

I sink

Then emerge again.

*

The bowl of water and I are white

The ground an ancient yellow

The field in front

And the bell

Dark yellow

The tabby cat in the yard

Has white patches on its back

I ring the yellow

Bell

A white color spreads

The cat walks softly

Shaking sunlight all over the ground

It walks until

it is only a white spot.

- Mai Văn Phấn
- translation by Nhat-Lang Le
- edited by Susan Blanshard
-photo by Nguyễn Quốc Thành