Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
Go to the object. Leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Do not impose yourself on the object. Become one with the object. Plunge deep enough into the object to see something like a hidden glimmering there.
Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.
A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.
Learn about a pine tree from a pine tree, and about a bamboo plant from a bamboo plant.