Operating superficially, the mind is random in its activity and stale in its insights and images. However, with practice and experience the mind is freed from the skull, and the fresh and new can appear as though for the first time. It
Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.
For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.
Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.
Along my journey / through this transitory world, / new year's housecleaning.
When composing a verse let there not be a hair's breath separating your mind from what you write; composition of a poem must be done in an instant, like a woodcutter felling a huge tree or a swordsman leaping at a dangerous enemy.