Not gifted with genius but honestly holding his experiences deep in his heart, he kept his simplicity and humanity.
On the Death of his Child Dew Evaporates And all our world is dew...so dear, So fresh, so fleeting
Moon, plum blossoms, this, that, and the day goes
Listen, all creeping things, the bell of transience.
O snail Climb Mount Fuji But slowly, slowly!
before the gate -- my walking stick's made a river of melting snow