Takahashi

... from Triumph of the Sparrow: Zen Poems of Shinkichi Takahashi:

Burning Oneself to Death

That was the best moment of the monk’s life.
Firm on the pile of firewood
With nothing more to say, hear, see,
Smoked wrapped him, his folded hands blazed.

There was nothing more to do, the end
Of everything. He remembered, as a cool breeze
Streamed through him, that one is always
In the same place, and that there is no time.

Suddenly a whirling mushroom cloud rose
Before his singed eyes, and he was a mass
Of flame. Globes, one after another, rolled out,
The delighted sparrows flew round like fire balls.

trans. Lucien Styrk