Vent d'automne ; Autumn wind

Un jour que le Bouddha méditait près du rivage d’un fleuve sacré, un homme vociférant s’approcha de lui et lui cracha sur le visage. Sans rien dire, le Bouddha se leva et alla se laver dans le fleuve et il s’assit. L’homme lui cracha encore au visage, toujours sans rien dire le Bouddha se leva et alla se laver dans le fleuve et il s’assit ; et il le fit 108 fois. C’est alors que l’homme se prosterna au pied du Bouddha et demanda son pardon. L’histoire dit que le bouddha lui demanda pourquoi. L’homme lui dit, par 108 fois j’ai souillé ton visage. Le Bouddha répondit : par 108 fois je suis allé me baigner ce matin. Bruits du monde et autres tintamarres, feuilles fanées que le vent d’automne disperse. Ce matin, plein Soleil ou qu’il pleuve, la journée sera belle.

One day which the Buddha meditated near the bank of a sacred river, a vociferate man approached him and spat him at the face. Silently, the Buddha got up and went to wash himself in the river and he sat down. The man still spat him at his face, always silently the Buddha got up and went to wash himself in the river and he sat down; and this man did it 108 times. It is then that the man prostrated himself at feet of the Buddha and asked for his forgiveness. The story says that the buddha asked him why. The man says to him, for 108 times I soiled your face. The Buddha answered: for 108 times I went to bathe this morning. Sound and fury of the world and the other dins, the faded leaves which the autumn wind scatters. This morning, full Sun or what it rains, the day will be beautiful.