Coming empty handed, going empty handed, that is human
When you are born, where do you come from?
When you die, Where do you go?
Life is like a floating cloud, which appears.
Death is like a floating cloud, which disappears.
The floating cloud itself originally does not exist.
Life and death, coming and going, are also like that.
But there is one thing that always remains clear.
It is pure and clear,
Not depending on life and death.
Then what is the one and clear thing?
This poem is closely associated with the Kwan Um School of Zen and appears on many websites associated with that international Korean-derived sangha. Attribution is uncertain. Several sites call it a “traditional Chinese poem.” A couple attribute it to Master Seung Sahn, the founder of the Kwan Um School. One private email from a Kwan Um Ji Do Poep Sunim said she thinks it originates in T’ang China. Somehow it feels particularly appropriate that this poem would rise in mysterious circumstance when I was considering questions of life and death and particularly considering a memorial service following the death of an infant.
Then what is the one and clear thing?
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