A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.

April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances

No matter where your interest lies, you will not be able to accomplish anything unless you bring your deepest devotion to it.

The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.

From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.

Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo. And in doing so, you must leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Otherwise you impose yourself on the object and you do not learn.

Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.