Leave out my name from the gift if it be a burden, but keep my song.

This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.

Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.

Death belongs to life as birth does The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down

And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well.

Whatever we treasure for ourselves separates us from others; our possessions are our limitations.

Your idol is shattered in the dust to prove that God's dust is greater than your idol.