Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
Don't imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon.
Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
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.
Mountain-rose petals Falling, falling, falling now... Waterfall music