In my last life I was a court blacksmith

For the ruling house of one remote country,

To be employed in making a bell-ringing set.

In connection with the working task,

I built an altar outside the city wall main gates,

And in three moons all twenty-five bells of Earth

Were maintained, even to the suspending

Of the rack's upper and lower tiers.

The ruler's son, our crown prince, saw them

And asked, "What arts you had employed

In the making of them?" I replied, "Besides

My undivided attention to them, I didn't venture

To use any arts. Have you not heard people say,

'After all the casting and moulding, let the object

Be to return to simplicity of its primordial state.'"

In a sense, I was as a child who had no knowledge;

I was extraordinarily slow and hesitating;

The bell-rack's hooks and tiers grew up

Like the springing plants, just of themselves.

In escorting those who went and meeting those

Who came, the Earth altar's bells were neither

To hinder the comers, nor detain the goers.

I did not have the slightest trouble,

And how much more will this be the case

With those who hit the Great Road

On a grand scale of the reference frame

Aslo known as Start-Merits-Milestones-End!"