To the fuki plant, dandelions, and their kind that lie for long patiently under the fallen snow, comes the season of breezy spring. No sooner do they see the light of the world, stretching their longing heads out from the cracks in the snow, than they are instantly nipped off. For these plants isn't the sorrow as deep as that of the child's parents whose child had accidentally died? They say everything in the plant and tree kingdom attains Buddhahood. Then they, too, must have Buddha-nature.

Listen, all creeping things, the bell of transience.

What a strange thing! to be alive beneath cherry blossoms.

Here I'm here- the snow falling.

All the time I pray to Buddha I keep on killing mosquitoes.

Even with insects - some can sing, some can't.

Giddy grasshopper Take care...do not leap and crush These pearls of dewdrop