Daybreak Poem by Santoka Taneda

'' akatsuki no yu ga watakushi hitori atatamete kuru '' '' daybreak: alone, I warm myself / in the waters of the hot spring ''

Sumita Ōyama, Santōka's close friend, editor, and biographer, told what happened when he had to spend the night at Gochū-an, where Santōka lived. There was only one sleeping quilt, and Santōka insisted that his guest used it. The quilt was little more than a ragged piece of cloth that would barely cover a child. As the winter wind blew in through the many holes in the walls and ceilings, Ōyama became colder and colder and was unable to sleep. Santōka put his priest's robe, his summer kimono, and several other pieces of cloth on top of Ōyama, but he was still cold. Finally, Santōka piled all his old magazines on top of his shivering friend. The next morning when Ōyama awoke, Santōka was still sitting in zazen.