“When I open the gate, many fallen leaves.”

From the poem “In Autumn, Sent to My Cousin Jia Dao” by the Tang-dynasty monk-poet Wu Ke (無可)

聽雨寒更盡
“Listening to the rain, the cold night passes.”

開門落葉多
“Opening the gate, many fallen leaves.”

Web clip

From https://zengo.sk46.com/data/monwohira.html

Notes

  • Wu Ke (無可) – A Buddhist monk and poet of the Tang dynasty. Cousin of the famous poet Jia Dao (賈島).
  • “In Autumn, Sent to My Cousin Jia Dao” – Collected in Quan Tang Shi (Complete Tang Poems), vol. 813.
    • In the source text, 落葉多 (“many fallen leaves”) appears as 落葉深 (“fallen leaves deep”).
    • Some versions have 寒更徹 (“through the cold night”) instead of 寒更盡 (“the cold night ends”).
  • 寄 (to send/entrust) – To send a poem or letter to someone, usually by messenger. If handed personally, it’s called 贈.
  • 寒更 (cold night watch) – The late hours of a cold night.

Interpretations

  • From Zenrin Kushū (Compiled by Shibayama Zenkei):
    “What was heard as rain all through the night was in fact the sound of falling leaves. A mood of secluded mountain dwelling. When things reach their limit, the wondrous activity of all phenomena is permitted.”
    (聽雨寒更盡 開門落葉多)
  • From Zengo Jii (Zen Phrase Dictionary):
    “It means that what was heard as rain all night was really the sound of leaves striking the door — an expression of the quiet feeling of hermit life in the mountains.”
    (聽雨寒更盡 開門落葉多)
  • From Haga Kōshirō’s New Edition: Ichigyō-mono:
    “Last night I listened to what I thought was rain beating on the roof, shivering with cold under my thin quilt, and eventually fell asleep in loneliness. This morning, opening the gate, I find the ground covered with fallen leaves. So — what I took for the sound of rain was really leaves hitting the roof. Winter is near. …
    This verse beautifully expresses both the desolate late-autumn night and the solitude of a recluse living alone in a grass hut. Zen practitioners have long cherished and brushed this phrase not only for its poetic excellence, but because it deeply embodies the doctrine of shogyō mujō — the impermanence of all things.”
    (聴雨寒更尽 開門落葉多)