Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf: Zen Poems of Ryokan

by Ryōkan, John Stevens (Translator)

The Japanese poet-recluse Ryokan (1758–1831) is one of the most beloved figures of Asian literature, renowned for his beautiful verse, exquisite calligraphy, and eccentric character. Deceptively simple, Ryokan's poems transcend artifice, presenting spontaneous expressions of pure Zen spirit. Like his contemporary Thoreau, Ryokan celebrates nature and the natural life, but his poems touch the whole range of human joy and sadness, pleasure and pain, enlightenment and illusion, love and loneliness. This collection of translations reflects the full spectrum of Ryokan's spiritual and poetic vision, including Japanese haiku, longer folk songs, and Chinese-style verse. Fifteen ink paintings by Koshi no Sengai (1895–1958) complement these translations and beautifully depict the spirit of this famous poet.

Genres: Poetry, Buddhism, Zen, Japan, Japanese Literature, Religion, Philosophy

124 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1835

About the author

Ryōkan Taigu (1758–1831) was a quiet and eccentric Sōtō Zen Buddhist monk who lived much of his life as a hermit. Ryōkan is remembered for his poetry and calligraphy, which present the essence of Zen life.

Ryōkan lived a very simple, pure life, and stories about his kindness and generosity abound. However, even though he lived his simple and pure life, he also displayed characteristics that under normal circumstances would be out of line for a normal monk.

Reviews

[Jessaka · Rating 5 out of 5]

DEWDROPS ON A LOTUS LEAF Zen Poems of Ryokan translated by John Stevens

Ryokan lived from 1758 to 1831. He was a Soto Zen Buddhist and for the last 34 years of his life he lived as a hermit. In my own imagination I think he must have grown tired of Zen life with the and its teachings, just hanging on to what was good. One of the poems that I put here kind of tells me that I am correct.
Hint: the word is “babble.”

Of the four Zen poetry books that I just purchased, I was drawn to this one first. I actually have a poem that I copied but have no idea who had written it. I read a poem in this book by him, and the writing seems to be alike.

This is one of the poems that he had written that I liked:

My Cracked Wooden Bowl

This treasure was discovered in a bamboo thicket --
I washed the bowl in a spring and then mended it.
After morning meditation, I take my gruel in it;
At night, it serves me soup or rice.
Cracked, worn, weather-beaten, and misshapen
But still of noble stock!

And my favorite:

The Great Way leads nowhere,
And it is no place.
Affirm it and you miss it by a mile;
“This is delusion, that is enlightenment,” is also wide
of the mark.
You can expound theories of “existence”
And “non-existence”
Yet even talk of the “Middle Way” can get you sidetracked.
I’ll just keep my wonderful experiences to myself.
Babble about enlightenment, and your words get
torn to shreds.

Compare this to a poem that I found somewhere but whose author I do not know. To me it sounds like Ryokan:

Áll my life too lazy to try and get ahead,
I leave everything to the truth of Heaven.
In my sack three measures of rice,
by the stove one bundle of sticks—
why ask who’s got satori, who hasn’t?
What would I know about that dust, fame and gain?
Rainy nights here in my thatched hut
I stick out my two legs any old way I please.

--Ryokan (1758-1831) Soto Zen

Ah, ha. When I read this before I did not see that it was by him. Mystery solved. I share his feelings.


has to come with me.

[Legdup Tsering · Rating 5 out of 5]

i love this book. its a very Beautiful Book. I've spend many many nights with this book....

[Jarett Sabirsh · Rating 5 out of 5]

A wonderful and enjoyable read. Fills your heart with joy and love, uplifting the reader on a deep level. Adding it to my list of favorite books.

[Jeffrey Gough · Rating 5 out of 5]

Refreshing are these Zen poems of Ryokan, poet-priest of the late Edo period. As pure as contemplating - unobscured - a full moon on a winter's night.

Perhaps Priest Senkei, who worked in silence - "no extra words for him", would have put it better?

These poems, although timeless, are testimony of why Ryokan (1758-1831) was the most important Japanese poet of his age.

"As the sun set sadly" so did the pages of poetry - as contained within Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf - come to an end too soon.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[Bekah · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Leave off your mad rush for gold and jewels—
I’ve got something far more precious for you:
A bright pearl that sparkles more brilliantly than the sun and moon
And illuminates each and every eye.
Lose it and you’ll wallow in a sea of pain;
Find it and you’ll safely reach the other shore.
I’d freely present this treasure to anyone
But hardly anyone asks for it.”

[Edie Lee · Rating 5 out of 5]

John Stevens translated these lovely zen poems. I found them transporting. Ryōko fills the world’s void with wisdom, thoughts of a wistful impermanence, and a joie de vivre!

[Dan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have been coming back to this gorgeous little collection for years now. The poems hold up and reward repeated readings. Absolutely one of my favorite books of poetry ever.

[Leslie Wexler · Rating 3 out of 5]

For all the poets who are not poets.

Who says my poems are poems?
My poems are not poems.
When you know that my poems are not poems,
Then we can speak of poetry!

To a Visitor
Listen to the cicadas in treetops near the waterfall;
See how last night's rains have washed away all grime.
Needless to say, my hut is as empty as can be,
But I. can offer you a window full of the most intoxicating air!

If you are not put off
By the voice of the valley
And the starry peaks,
Why not walk through the shady cedars
And come see me?

At dusk
Come to my hut--
The crickets will
Serenade you, and I will
Introduce you to the moonlit woods.

We meet only to part,
Coming and going like white clouds,
Leaving traces so faint
Hardly a soul notices.

I have an old staff
That has well served many.
It's bark has worn away;
All that remains is the strong core.
I used it to test the waters,
And often it got me out of trouble.
Now, though, it leans agains the wall,
Out of service for years.

Time passes,
There is no way
We can hold it back --
Why, then, do thoughts linger on,
Long after everything else is gone?

The Love Poems between Ryokan and Teishin

Caged Birds
Time and again
You, too
Must long for
Your old nest
Deep in the mountains.

An Abandoned Hut
Those plum blossoms
We once floated in our wine.
Now the flowers are
Scattered, unnoticed,
All over the ground.

Was it really you
I saw,
Or is this joy
I still feel
Only a dream? -- Teishin

In this dream world
We doze
And talk of dreams--
Dream, dream on,
As much as you wish. -- Ryokan

Here with you
I could remain
For countless days and years,
Silent as the bright moon
We gazed at together. --Teishin

If your heart
Remains unchanged,
We will be bound as tightly
As an endless vine
For ages and ages. -- Ryokan

Have you forgotten me
Or lost the path here?
Now I wait for you
All day, every day.
But you do not appear. -- Ryokan

The moon. I'm sure.
Is shining brightly
High above the mountains,
But gloomy clouds
Shroud the peak in darkness. -- Teishin

You must rise above
The gloomy clouds
Covering the mountaintop,
Otherwise, how will you
Ever see the brightness? -- Ryokan

Chanting old poems,
Making our own verses,
Playing with a cloth ball,
Together in the fields--
Two poeple, one heart.

The breeze is fresh,
The moon is bright--
Together
Let's dance until dawn
As a farewll to my old age.

Exchange of Poems on Ryokan's Deathbed
"When, when?" I sighed.
The one I longed for
Has finally come;
With her now,
I have all that I need. -- Ryokan

We monastics are said
To overcome the realm
Of life and death--
Yet I cannot bear the
Sorrow of our parting. --Teishin

Everywhere you look
The crimson leaves
Scatter--
One by one,
Front and back. --Ryokan

My legacy--
What will it be?
Flowers in spring,
The cuckoo in summer,
And the crimson maples
Of autumn...

If someone asks
My abode
I reply:
"The east edge of
The Milky Way."

Like a drifting cloud,
Bound by nothing:
I just let go
Giving myself up
To the whim of the wind.

Please don't mistake me
For a bird
When I swoop
Into your garden
To eat the cherry apples.

Ryōkan’s late poetry is not about renunciation in the way people often imagine Zen. It’s about consent to impermanence without contempt for love. He does not say: "love was a mistake," "attachment was ignorance," or "longing should be overcome." Instead, he says: "we met only to part," and "dream, dream on, as much as you wish."Ryōkan’s “east edge of the Milky Way” doesn't feel floating away from connection, but away from containment.

[#DÏ4B7Ø Chinnamasta-Bhairav]

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[Sumaiya S. Upoma · Rating 5 out of 5]

"We meet only to part, /Coming and going like white clouds, /Leaving traces so faint /Hardly a soul notices."

I have developed such deep love and fondness for this poetry collection of Ryokan. I have heard great things about him and I'm so glad I decided to pick up this book. Every single poem charmed me to my core, knocking on a very soft yet melancholic part of my heart. What I love the most about Japanese literature, and the reason why it influences me so much in my own writing, is how deeply threaded it is to human life and the wordly existence, how rawly it can convey the mundaneness of it all while simultaneously explaining the complexities, how down-to-earth. And this collection is a wonderful example of that.

“Chanting old poems, /Making our own verses,/ Playing with a cloth ball, /Together in the fields— /Two people, one heart. /The breeze is fresh, /The moon so bright /Together /Let’s dance until dawn /As a farewell to my old age.”

Every single poem was gorgeous, captivating, enchanting to read. The simplicity of a life led close to the nature mixed Ryokan's words of wisdom. The gentleness of the verses, as much of it reached the English language without getting lost in translation, makes me get the desire to meet Ryokan and talk to him, because he seems like he would be a kindhearted, innocent man with many wisdoms to share. His poetry is truly a gift. It reminded me again of what it is to be human, that the painful experiences and little emotions are all a part of who we are. Gorgeous, gorgeous piece of literature. Which is why though I never write reviews on poetry books, I had to share my feelings about this one.

“I contemplate the moon through the night, /As the stream settles, and white dew descends. /Which wayfarer will bask in the moonlight longest? /Whose home will drink up the most moonbeams? /Shut up among the solitary peaks, /I sadly contemplate the driving sleet outside. /A monkey’s cry echoes through the dark hills, /A frigid stream murmurs below, /And the light by the window looks frozen solid. /My inkstone, too, is ice-cold. /No sleep tonight, I’ll write poems, /Warming the brush with my breath.

[Toni · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although I usually avoid poetry by any means, for some reason, I was drawn to this collection of poems by famed Japanese poet Ryokan, and I'm very glad I gave it a chance. If you know nothing about Zen poetry or the author, Ryokan (like I did) then I highly recommend reading the brief translator's introduction at the beginning. It gives a very concise biography of Ryokan, which provides helpful context when reading his poems.
Due to their translated nature, the poems do not rhyme, but this didn't inhibit my enjoyment of them. Each poem is a short, seemingly simplistic observation of Ryokan's world at a given moment, but beneath the surface is a wealth of peace just waiting for the reader to uncover. Some of my favorites are "Bamboo," "Visiting Cloud Peak with Priest Tenge in Fall," and the poem that starts with "In my garden/" and talks about "no-mind."
A casual read by itself can induce a sense of ease, but if you go slowly and reread the poems a few times, you feel almost as if some unnamed wisdom has been imparted. Or, rather than "wisdom," maybe "understanding" would be a better word to use. I am by no means smarter having read this book, but I feel more aware and appreciative of my surroundings. Ryokan's words made me want to slow down and just observe life going on around me, something no other book has done. This is definitely a collection I'll reread again and again, simply for the feeling of peace it gifted me.

[Rachel b00ksrmagic · Rating 4 out of 5]

I rarely read poetry. It’s too flowery for me. Why do you need to use all those words to say something that could be distilled into one sentence? But one of the @mjudsonbooks challenge categories is a collection of poetry. And this month’s country is Japan. So I gave this one a try.

Surprisingly I didn’t hate it! I appreciated the biographical notes about the author. Understanding that he was a religious figure from the 1700s who renounced wealth and lived in a hut in the mountains for most of his life, supported by the food donated by villagers, gave me context to understand his poems. He wrote a lot of very beautiful descriptions of nature—flowers and trees, birds and animals, and fruits and vegetables.

My favorite poems were when he talked about books. He spent much of his life studying the limited number of books he could get access to. I especially loved these lines from a poem about a visit to a rich man’s house:

“The inside of his home is full of treasures:
Volumes of books scattered about!
Inspired, I loosen my robe, browse through the books,
And then compose my own verse.”

[Joe Stack · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a wonderful collection of poems. The poems are exquisite in their brevity and clarity. Here is the second poem in this collection:

"It's a pity, a gentleman in refined retirement composing poetry:
He models his work on the classic verse of China,
And his poems are elegant, full of fine phrases,
But if you don't write of things deep inside your own heart,
What's the us of churning out so many words?"

Ryokan is true to his words. These poems express what is deep inside his heart. Each expresses a love of life and observing the world, nature and people, in an uncomplicated way. Ryokan's centerness is evident in the poems. The poetry is a pleasure to read and offer relections to meditate on.

[Brian Wilcox · Rating 5 out of 5]

A contrast to the linguistically ornate poetry so common, as though the poet is putting forth much effort to write pretty. Here, like Zen, direct pointing. One could be tempted often to read some "Zen" into the verse when Ryokan is being Zen - autumn leaves are autumn leaves, and the wind is blowing them across the cool ground. Yet, the ultimate shines through the relative, so Ryokan does not need to load the verse down with Buddhist scholasticism or Zen mysticism, whatever that would be. Refreshing. Inspirational. Rarely do I read a book that I have difficulty putting down. This was one of those.

[Joseph Knecht · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sometimes I sit quietly, Listening to the sound of falling leaves. Peaceful indeed is the life of a monk, Cut off from all worldly matters. Then why do I shed these tears? I’m so aware That it’s all unreal: One by one, the things Of this world pass on. But why do I still grieve?

The wind has settled, the blossoms have fallen; Birds sing, the mountains grow dark— This is the wondrous power of Buddhism.

[Akanay · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ryōkan captures the essence of Zen in few lines, the moment you catch it, is the moment you lose your grip.

Leave off your mad rush for gold and jewels-
I've got something far more precious for you:
A bright pearl that sparkles more brilliantly than the sun and moon
And illuminates each and every eye.
Lose it and you'll wallow in a sea of pain;
Find it and you'll safely reach the other shore.
I'd freely present this treasure to anyone
But hardly anyone asks for it.

[Helena Sardinha]

"Haiku"

(...)
Autumn's first drizzle:
How delightful,
The nameless mountain.

Left behind by the thief -
The moon
In the window.

Around my shuttered door,
Fallen pines needles:
How lonely I feel...

Calling out to me
As they return home
Wild geese at night.

This old body of mine:
A bamboo buried
In the cold snow."

[Scott Ballard · Rating 5 out of 5]

Time passes
There is no way
We can hold it back -
Why, then, do thoughts linger on,
Long after everything else is gone?

-

If you are not put off
By the voice of the valley
And the starry peaks,
Why not walk through the shady cedars
And come see me?

At dusk
Come to my hut-
The crickets will
Serenade you, and I will
Introduce you to the moonlit woods.

[piattenzione · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful. Ryokan’s poetry always emphasizes the emotional, sublime, and spiritual qualities of nature. As a Buddhist monk and hermit in 18th-century Japan, his work could be described as Zen romance. The simplicity and wit of his verses elevate the poems to something truly profound. This is a book to return to again and again.

[Claire M]

Such a weird/crazy/unexplainable experience while reading this. Felt almost like a magical potion…? Few words that provoked very powerful emotions. I wanted to cry when things weren’t necessarily sad. Tears of entirely other flavor? Pulling at things inside of me that needed to get out, I guess…

[Char · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5☆

real

i love that he just spends all day drinking and playing with children and doing whatever

i mean, if an ancient zen master is telling me to do whatever i like all day, and be content with daily life, maybe that outlook on life has some precedent

[Eli Winthrop · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed reading the poetry in this book. It painted an interesting picture of his life, thoughts, and feelings.

[Robert · Rating 5 out of 5]

A truly delightful little book.

[Joan · Rating 5 out of 5]

No question this is genius. One hundred percent genius.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

Zen nobody

From what I understand these poems were put together in one book by Tenshin, Ryokan's only love, just after he died.

[Buddy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ryōkan (1758–1831), Sōtō Zen Buddhist monk, hermit, fool, austere sensualist, cheeky as hell. This poetry absolutely slaps.

[Fable · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think the first book I've read with zen on the cover that actually gives me zen feels. Like sitting on the porch during a soft summer rainstorm.

[Suresh Nair · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sublime. Real. Unreal. Magical. Love.

[Kristina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tremendously beautiful poems. One of those books that are meant to be read with the heart, not the mind.

[j e rodriguez · Rating 4 out of 5]

"We are bound by fate to the whirl of existence."