My favorite poet these days is Ikkyu Sojun, the mad monk of Zen. In 1471, at the age of 77, Ikkyu fell in love with a blind woman in her 20s. His verse is poignant, insightful and quite moving. He died eleven years later. Here are some of his scribbings to enjoy (transcribed from Crow with No Mouth, translated by Stephen Berg).

even before trees rocks I was nothing
when I'm dead nowhere I'll be nothing

this ink painting of wind blowing through pines
who hears it?

why is it all so beautiful this fake dream
this craziness why?

sin like a madman until you can't do anything else
no room for any more

one long pure beautiful road of pain
and the beauty of death and no pain

mirror facing mirror
nowhere else

passion's red thread is infinite
like the earth always under me

a woman is enlightenment when you're with her and the red thread
of both your passions flare inside you and you see

your name Mori means forest like the infinite fresh
green distances of your blindness

only one koan matters
you

It is nice to get a glimpse of a lady bathing --
You scrubbed your flower face and cleansed your lovely body
While this old monk sat in the hot water,
Feeling more blessed than even the emperor of China!