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

I'd like to divide myself in order to see, among these mountains, each and every flower of every cherry tree.

Now seen...now gone, The butterfly flits in and out Through fence-hung flowers; But a life lived so close to them I envy...though it's here and gone.

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.

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

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