Pointless Thread of Death

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On a journey, ill:
my dream goes wandering
over withered field.

Bassho




Since time began
the dead alone know peace.
Life is but melting snow.

Nandai



Breathing in, breathing out,
Moving forward, moving back,
Living, dying, coming, going —
Like two arrows meeting in flight,
In the midst of nothingness
Is the road that goes directly
to my true home.

Gesshu Soko

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up the man they say murdered three
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

The world of dew
is the world of dew
And yet, and yet...

In this world
we walk on the roof of hell
gazing at flowers

Issa


Had I not known
that I was dead
already
I would have mourned
my loss of life.

Dokan

On the day I die, when I'm being carried
toward the grave, don't weep. Don't say,

He's gone! He's gone. Death has nothing to do with going away. The sun sets and

the moon sets, but they're not gone.
Death is a coming together. The tomb

looks like a prison, but it's really
release into union. The human seed goes

down in the ground like a bucket into
the well where Joseph is. It grows and

comes up full of some unimagined beauty.
Your mouth closes here, and immediately

opens with a shout of joy there.

Rumi

Hey Raleigh.

I'll kill you if you kill me?

^ nightlock berries?

Count of three.

.

The Twa Corbies

As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies makin a mane;
The tane unto the ither say,
"Whar sall we gang and dine the-day?"

"In ahint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And nane do ken that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound an his lady fair."

"His hound is tae the huntin gane,
His hawk tae fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's tain anither mate,
So we may mak oor dinner swate."

"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike oot his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We'll theek oor nest whan it grows bare."

"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken whar he is gane;
Oer his white banes, whan they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."

Mirogoj Cemetery, Zagreb:

Everyone will die, but not everyone will live.

A maid walked out one day, one day
She met an aged man by the way
His head was bald, his beard was grey
His clothing made of the cold earthen clay
His clothing made of the cold earthen clay

She said, "Old man, what man are you?
What country do you belong unto?"
"My name is Death - hast heard of me?
All kings and princes bow down unto me
And you fair maid must come along with me."

"I'll give you gold, I'll give you pearls
I'll give you costly rich robes to wear
If you will spare me a little while
And give me time my life to amend
And give me time my life to amend."

"I'll have no gold, I'll have no pearls
I want no costly rich robes to wear
I cannot spare you a little while
Nor give you time your life to amend
Nor give you time your life to amend."

In six months time this fair maid died;
"Let this be put on my tombstone," she cried
"Here lies a poor distressed maid
All in her prime she was snatched away
Her clothing made of the cold earthen clay.