STRAY BIRDS
173
"Who drives me forward like fate?"
"The Myself striding on my back."
174
The clouds fill the watercups of the river, hiding themselves in the distant hills.
175
I spill water from my water jar as I walk on my way,
Very little remains for my home.
176
The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words that are clear; the great truth has great silence.
[52]
