Dark as ink is the sky when big wind blows
A tall tree bends, its crown downward goes
Black waves surge in the ocean down the hill
Burdened by the clouds, the sky seems to fall
My shabby abode across the bay is walled coldness
My aging heart harbors nothing but emptiness
Looking down at the ocean I never stop to sigh
In the Sahā-lokadhātu who the hell am I?