Free indeed is the yogiwho lives everywhere with abandon:in cave houses atop mountains,in the shade of blossoming trees,in a hut amid the open fields,in a small white cotton tent.I will sing from afara song of joy and peace:Because of you, O guru, most sublime and wise,whose kindness surpasses even the Buddha's,I understand the truth:that all events and happenings --the union of form and emptiness --are nothing but the play of the mind.Mysterious, incomprehensible,I realize, is my mind --the root of prison and freedom,ungraspable, without substance.Living in solitude I place my mindwith natural ease upon suchness --this mind, as light as
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