Collecting all The rains of May The swift Mogami River.
Seek on high bare trails Sky-reflecting violets... Mountain-top jewels
Harvest moon: around the pond I wander and the night is gone.
Don't imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon.
Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice
The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.