Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.
Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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.
Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.
From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo