I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
The sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.
Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
Go to the object. Leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Do not impose yourself on the object. Become one with the object. Plunge deep enough into the object to see something like a hidden glimmering there.
Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.