Old No Eye

My name is No-eye

Hole in the skull

Servant of silence

Walking.

Not I, this skull alone,

moves across this dusty plain.

Mountains rise, valleys,

cool winds and waters fall.

Hot rocks glow on the valley floor.

 

Through this skull the world moves

like rivers from the mountain

snow water from high ice -

nothing in the way.

 

Zanskar 1986.