If you touch these tears, know then that
They do not exist; you saw the sheen of insubstantiality
At this very instant. A pale shadow of what
Should not be and moreover, what should not become.
What did you see, then?
A shadow of substance, but not the substance;
Ah, the midday sun blinds the eye
And makes the apparent transparent.
Empty, empty inside.
Far from Sunyata, far from silence,
The sheen of insubstantiality
That does not exist. My reality
Is the shadow, the substance,
And the shadow that is free.