So cruelly turned away, I composed this poem: Weary of the world like you,
I wear the same black robes.
What means this hue if you reject me so?
I wrote this on a prayer slip, attached it to a branch from the nandin evergreen growing before the gate, and sent it inside. They didn’t answer my poem, but they did let me stay, and we soon became acquainted. [4.22] |
