the cassia bough, already old long ago

The road runs into pine sighs;
From far off, it's even stranger.
Mountain light and colors in the water,
Tufted, raggedy.
On a crag in the middle,
In zazen, all alone,
One monk,
Sits facing the cassia bough:
Already old, long ago.

- Chiao Jan (730-799)

related:
http://mikedayoub.blogspot.com/2016/01/how-lovable-my-cassia-bough.html