I. Searching for the Ox
Alone in the wilderness, lost in the jungle,
the child is searching, searching!
The swelling waters, the far-away mountains,
and the unending path;
Exhausted and in despair, knowimg not
where to go,
Only hearing the evening cicadas singing in
the maple-woods.
Where does the dear child go from here?
She follows her heart, to freedom's shore, right?
II. Seeing the Traces
By the stream and under the trees, scattered
are the traces of the lost;
The sweet-scented grasses are growing
thick -- did she find the way?
However remote over the hills and far
away the beast may wander,
it's nose reaches the heavens and none
can conceal it.
III. Seeing the Ox
On a yonder branch perches a nightengale
cheerfully singing;
The sun is warm, and a soothing breeze
blows on
On the bank the willows
are green;
The ox is there all by himself, nowhere
is he to hide himself;
The splendid head decorated with stately
horns like a duplicatous Unicorn
\-- what painter can
reproduce him?
IV. Catching the Ox
With all the energy the child can muster
she has at last taken hold of the ox:
But how wild his will, how
ungovernable his power!
At times he struts up a plateau,
When Lo! he is lost again in a
misty unpenetrable mountain-pass.
This ox is hard to herd or follow.
V. Herding the Ox
Now the child may seek to
herd the Ox, but if she uses the whip and tether
she will only succeed to separate herself with
from him with that whip and tether,
and cause the animal to wander away again
and she will fall again into a world of defilements;
BUT!, When the ox is properly tended to,
with appropriate attention and love
he will grow pure and docile;
Without a chain, nothing binding, he will
by himself be her leader and her guide
and her follower
Nothing could be stronger
than this boundless binding
Nothing could surpass its
wondrousness
Nothing else could
touch her heart like this
VI. Coming Home on the Ox's Back
Riding on the Ox's back, they leisurely
wend their way home;
Enveloped in the evening mist, how
tunefully the beautiful flute notes vanish away
into the utter stillness of vanquished time
Singing a ditty, beating time,
her dear heart filled with joy
indescribably!
That she is now one of those who know,
need it be told?
Alone in the wilderness, lost in the jungle,
the child is searching, searching!
The swelling waters, the far-away mountains,
and the unending path;
Exhausted and in despair, knowimg not
where to go,
Only hearing the evening cicadas singing in
the maple-woods.
Where does the dear child go from here?
She follows her heart, to freedom's shore, right?
II. Seeing the Traces
By the stream and under the trees, scattered
are the traces of the lost;
The sweet-scented grasses are growing
thick -- did she find the way?
However remote over the hills and far
away the beast may wander,
it's nose reaches the heavens and none
can conceal it.
III. Seeing the Ox
On a yonder branch perches a nightengale
cheerfully singing;
The sun is warm, and a soothing breeze
blows on
On the bank the willows
are green;
The ox is there all by himself, nowhere
is he to hide himself;
The splendid head decorated with stately
horns like a duplicatous Unicorn
\-- what painter can
reproduce him?
IV. Catching the Ox
With all the energy the child can muster
she has at last taken hold of the ox:
But how wild his will, how
ungovernable his power!
At times he struts up a plateau,
When Lo! he is lost again in a
misty unpenetrable mountain-pass.
This ox is hard to herd or follow.
V. Herding the Ox
Now the child may seek to
herd the Ox, but if she uses the whip and tether
she will only succeed to separate herself with
from him with that whip and tether,
and cause the animal to wander away again
and she will fall again into a world of defilements;
BUT!, When the ox is properly tended to,
with appropriate attention and love
he will grow pure and docile;
Without a chain, nothing binding, he will
by himself be her leader and her guide
and her follower
Nothing could be stronger
than this boundless binding
Nothing could surpass its
wondrousness
Nothing else could
touch her heart like this
VI. Coming Home on the Ox's Back
Riding on the Ox's back, they leisurely
wend their way home;
Enveloped in the evening mist, how
tunefully the beautiful flute notes vanish away
into the utter stillness of vanquished time
Singing a ditty, beating time,
her dear heart filled with joy
indescribably!
That she is now one of those who know,
need it be told?
Gorgeous wording.