The verse

The old bell hangs and waits a hand to strike,Give first one blow; cool peace floods every height.Its voice, far-carried, asks no coin at all—Ask not what gift the bell returns to thee.

Reading

This slip bids you strike the bell first—offer its sound, give coolness freely without asking a price. Where the toll travels, echoes arise of their own; no gain is promised here, only that you give before you wait.

The temple keeper adds

The middle path. No drama from the god today — only a road you can still walk.

[ Draw another at the temple ][ Keep a traffic omamori ]