The early summer morning mist, sweeping over the fields of my hometown

Like a thin veil, gently enveloping the golden rice waves
The rice ears hang with morning dew, each crystal clear
Stars that have fallen onto the tips of the ears before waking
As the wind passes, the rice waves sway gently
The fallen dew drops into the soil
Spraying tiny clear sounds, like the first cry of a mantra

I meditate on the ridge of the field
The thin mist reaches my ankles, carrying the dampness of green grass
The distant sunlight breaks through the cradle of the morning fog
Gently spreading across my face
Warmth, a unique temperature of my hometown
Unhurried, like a mother’s palm stroking the forehead
Dispelling all wandering fatigue

The ancient well lies quietly by the field
Moss on the blue stone slab hides the coolness of the years
Bending down, fingertips touch the pure cold of the well water
That coolness flows from the fingertips to the heart
Washing away the dust and noise, leaving only pure tranquility
As if the time of the hometown has never gone far
Always kept in this spring of clear water, maintaining its original clarity

I gently part my lips and teeth, the Sanskrit sounds swirl around
Neither high nor low, blending with the gentle chant of the rice waves
Merging with the flow of the mist
The sound drifts across the fields, hitting the distant mountain mists
Then returns, echoing in the void
Illusion and reality intertwine—
The rice ears are the embodiment of the mantra, the dew is the spiritual light of the mantra
The mist is the aura of the mantra, the sunlight is the compassion of the mantra

I am no longer a chanter
Part of the Sanskrit sound, part of the fields
Distracting thoughts gradually disperse like morning fog, revealing the clarity of heaven and earth
Worries drip like dew, merging into the tranquility of the ancient well
The supreme mantra is never a distant legend
It is the light on the rice ears, the coolness in the well water
The emptiness in the mantra, and on the fields of my hometown
Every breath resonates with heaven and earth

At this moment, I stand in the morning light of my hometown
Standing in the embrace of the mantra
Realizing that no pursuit is needed, the return itself is completeness
The mantra is in the dew, among the rice waves
In the coolness of the ancient well, in the silence of my heart
Together with my hometown, together with eternity