Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
Even in Kyoto/Hearing the cuckoo's cry/I long for Kyoto
Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.
There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.
Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old - / These fields and mountains!
Old pond, frog jumps in - plop.