For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice
Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.
From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo
The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
Come out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.