Now I am sixty,

all I need is a shelter

and I pay no heed

to feng shui, or to roots.

Taking up tent pegs;

being able to move at

the drop of a hat

is all I care about now.

I have my books and my lute.

Who would ask for more?

I can collect free firewood;

I enjoy the view;

my prayers are spontaneous;

I make music for myself.


Japanese Koto.jpg

(koto:  Wikipedia)