Tea Ceremony at Tiananmen

Three plums on a bough
Three plums shake
against the cold

The Sakymuni: presses his face
against my window
He is from the square looking in
I cannot look out

Three plums shake
on a bough
circumscribing a moon and cloud

The Buddha walks abroad
I see him now
He picks up the hem of his cloak
As he gingerly steps through the crowd
The stench is too much for him
yet the Sakyamuni is bold

Three plums against a moon
against the cold
fall
Sakyamuni cuts off his eyelids
where two leaves fall.