In the pasture of the world, I endlessly push aside the tall grasses in search of the bull.
Following unnamed rivers, lost upon the interpenetrating paths of distant mountains,
My strength failing and my vitality exhausted, I cannot find the bull.
I only hear the locusts chirping through the forest at night.
The bull never has been lost. What need is there to search?
Only because of separation from my true nature, I fail to find him.
In the confusion of the senses I lose even his tracks.
Far from home, I see many crossroads, but which way is the right one I know not.
Greed and fear, good and bad, entangle me.