In the spring rain, The pond and the river Have become one.

The end of spring- the poet is brooding about editors.

Grasses are misty, The waters silent- A tranquil evening.

I came to the flowers; I slept beneath them; this was my leisure.

Young leaves The sound of a waterfall Heard from far and near.

In the water bucket a melon and an eggplant nodding to each other

In the spring rain, The pond and the river Have become one.