Alone in the wilderness, lost in
the jungle,
     the boy is searching,
searching!
The swelling waters, the
far-away mountains,
      and the unending path;
Exhausted and in despair, he
knows not
      where to go,
He only hears the evening
      cicadas singing in
the maple-woods.
 
 

In the pasture of this world, I endlessly push aside the tall grasses in search of the bull.
Following unnamed rivers, lost upon the interpenetrating paths of distant mountains,
My strength failing and my vitality exhausted, I cannot find the bull.
I only hear the locusts chirring through the forest at night.

http://www.reasoned.org/dir/zen.htm

 http://www.hsuyun.org/