Make the universe your companion, always bearing in mind the true nature of things-mountains and rivers, trees and grasses, and humanity-and enjoy the falling blossoms and the scattering leaves.

Collecting all The rains of May The swift Mogami River.

The journey itself is my home.

Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.

When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.

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

Even in Kyoto/Hearing the cuckoo's cry/I long for Kyoto