Immanentize the Eschaton

擬將蝶夢誘吟魂
且隔人生在畫村
花影半簾來着靜
風蹤滿地去無痕
小樓烹茗輕烟熟
午院曝書黃雀喧
一榻清機閑日月
詩成默默對晴暄

Ready for my dream of the butterfly to summon my poetic spirit[1];
For a while I detach from the world, residing in the painted village.
The blossoms shade half the screen, falling on it quietly.
The wind trail fills the land, leaving without a trace.
In the small tower boiling tea, light steam rises;
In the afternoon cloister books lay bare, the yellow sparrows sing.
In the Zen chair I feel pure impulse, the days and months are calm;
The poem is complete; all is quiet beneath the warm sunshine.