Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
Do not resemble me-Never be like a musk melon Cut in two identical halves.
Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo
Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness