Classic Poem

When I go alone to fast at the temple,
affairs of the dusty world are no more my concern.
Refusing horse and saddle, I go by indigo carrying chair.
Black-robed Buddhists I take for friends now.
Morning meal—just some medicinal greens;
night companion—only the gauze lamp.
If you overlook my blue official's jacket,
in all other respects I'm a monk!