Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
Collecting all The rains of May The swift Mogami River.
Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.
Mountain-rose petals Falling, falling, falling now... Waterfall music
Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness