The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.
I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances
Learn how to listen as things speak for themselves.
Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
The old pond, ah! A frog jumps in: The water's sound.