On a freezing morning in the grip of a cold wave,
the sun burns over the horizon, dyeing the snow-capped mountain red
and painting an ethereal landscape of light and shadow on the land.
In olden times, the Japanese would stand at daybreak,
hands folded in prayer before the sun,
the source of creation and the energy of the universe.
This month we gaze on clear scenery born of the majestic light
of the winter dawn. I invite you to feel a world of deities and Buddhas
beyond understanding, while letting thoughts run
to the homeland of our souls.
Comment
On a freezing morning in the grip of a cold wave,
the sun burns over the horizon, dyeing the snow-capped mountain red
and painting an ethereal landscape of light and shadow on the land.
In olden times, the Japanese would stand at daybreak,
hands folded in prayer before the sun,
the source of creation and the energy of the universe.
This month we gaze on clear scenery born of the majestic light
of the winter dawn. I invite you to feel a world of deities and Buddhas
beyond understanding, while letting thoughts run
to the homeland of our souls.