There are only a few books out there to introduce the writings of this enigmatic but highly rewarding eighteenth-century Zen Buddhist poet. Ryokan was a Japanese priest of the Soto Zen school who lived mostly as a hermit. His life spilled into his poems, which praise what we might call “holy foolishness” — things like loving bugs, playing with children in his Zen robes, and drinking too much to the point where, as he reflects in one of the poems, “I weave lightly / in the late summer breeze.”
Compassion and being present are in practice abundantly here. So is gratitude, especially for the moments of life today, right now, knowing that our days are numbered, as in this poem:
I could die at any moment
and yet go on alive
such anguish
to see this clearly
The poems are presented beautifully, the shortest ones usually artfully two to a page, and the translators — one a monk-poet himself, and the other a professional translator from Japanese — do a fine job of introducing the poet, his life and times, as well as the forms that the poems take.
When living in a time that seems absurd much of the time, we need books that show a way through. This is one of those books, as Ryokan’s poems point to meaning in a world of flux.
