When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
Go to the object. Leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Do not impose yourself on the object. Become one with the object. Plunge deep enough into the object to see something like a hidden glimmering there.
Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.
A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
Learn the rules, and then forget them.