On the Death of his Child Dew Evaporates And all our world is dew...so dear, So fresh, so fleeting
Carrying a poppy he passes through the quarrel.
Arise from sleep, old cat, And with great yawns and stretchings... Amble out for love
In the cherry blossom's shade there's no such thing as a stranger.
What a strange thing! to be alive beneath cherry blossoms.
Where there are humans, You'll find flies, And Buddhas.