This place of mine never is entered by humans come for conversation, only by the mute moon's light shafts that slip in between the trees.

This place of mine never is entered by humans come for conversation, only by the mute moon's light shafts that slip in between the trees.

Whatever it is, / I cannot understand it, / although gratitude / stubbornly overcomes me / until I'm reduced to tears.

The cherries' only fault: the crowds that gather when they bloom

Limitations gone: Since my mind fixed on the moon, Clarity and serenity Make something for which There's no end in sight.

Tightly held by rocks Through winter, the ice today Begins to come undone: A way-seeker also is the water, Melting, murmuring from the moss.

Every single thing changes and is changing always in this world. Yet with the same light the moon goes on shining.