Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness
Along my journey / through this transitory world, / new year's housecleaning.
Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice... Or backyard love?
Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.
Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.