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Without a jot of ambition left I let my nature flow where it will. There are ten days of rice in my bag and, by the hearth, a bundle of firewood. Who prattles of illusion or nirvana? Forgetting the equal dusts of name and fortune, listening to the night rain on the roof of my hut, I sit at ease, both legs stretched out. - Ryokan (1757-1831)