At the age of seventy plus one,
Poetry is what I no longer read or write.
Reading too strenuous for the eye,
While doing good deeds too much of a physical act.
How can the mind then pass time?
Amitabha is what I simply chant.
I chant Amitabha while walking,
I chant Amitabha while sitting;
Even when buried in matters,
Never forget Amitabha for a chant.
Let those intellects ridicule me,
And most of you skeptics of Amitabha.
So what if you are an intellect?
So what if I ain’t?
I urge all living beings in the Dharma realm,
To come together and chant Amitabha;
If one seeks liberation from the cycle of rebirth,
To chant Amitabha would be an essential act.