Author Robert Borgen In this room, neither children nor wife, but a monk, his head covered, one hand in a mudra , incense burning before a single lamp. From memory reciting three or four meditation sutras, I thus observe monastic abstinence, more pure than ice. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments