Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.
Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die
When your consciousness has become ripe in true zazen-pure like clear water, like a serene mountain lake, not moved by any wind-then anything may serve as a medium for realization.
This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
Do not resemble me-Never be like a musk melon Cut in two identical halves.
For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.