Clouds atop clouds have convened
On the Asarh[1] heavens.
Rain falls down greatly stormy;
Furious, the wind.
Bird-nests are floating away;
A haven the drenched traveler craves.
In paddy fields from water-stream
Is the ocean's hint.
Steering boat a sailor proceeds;
The shoreline he goes on ignoring.
Not obtaining depth in waters deep,
His perspective is stoic.
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For the mystic there is naught to fear, no cause to cry.
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