Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
Seek on high bare trails Sky-reflecting violets... Mountain-top jewels
A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
The sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.