From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo

Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.

Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.

Mountain-rose petals Falling, falling, falling now... Waterfall music

From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo

Without bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance all over the world?

Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die