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.
When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps' nest.
Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.