When your consciousness has become ripe in true zazen-pure like clear water, like a serene mountain lake, not moved by any wind-then anything may serve as a medium for realization.

Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.

Just washed, How chill The white leeks!

If I had the knack I'd sing like Cherry flakes falling

I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.

Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.

All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.