A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
Seek on high bare trails Sky-reflecting violets... Mountain-top jewels
Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
On a bare branch a crow is perched - autumn evening
The moon and sun are travelers through eternity. Even the years wander on. Whether drifting through life on a boat or climbing toward old age leading a horse, each day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.