In tradition of posting poems that mean something, I have dug out this one, that I have saved years ago. I remember the exact feeling that forced me to save it - it was what enlightenment is all about. In Zen, it is non-spoken and cannot be talked about rationally. I think this poem passes some indescribable feeling that I liked and captured. It is a Japanese poem translated from Russian so please forgive me for any inadequacies in translation since I tried to keep the original feel of it.
Verily I tell you - this is a man flowing like a mountain stream!
Why be surprised that the clouds are returning to the native mountains?
Thinned out after six years of asceticism,
You can even see the bones,
No, now he is completely different from the way he used to be.
Licked the ice, gnawed the bark - what has he accomplished?
Overcame his flesh, became as thin as a sliver.
With 300 sermons for forty nine years fooled the madmen
While in a dream telling them about the dream.
Immovable, sat on the Snow Mountain.
What could he have accomplished?
His coming was useless,
Misfortune for people and gods.
For two thousand years no one noticed him
Only today when I met him I understood.
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