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Year’s end, all corners of this floating world, swept.

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Age Float Time World

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Come out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.
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Bloom Flower Poverty Truth
On a bare branch a crow is perched – autumn evening.
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Autumn Evening
A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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The oak tree: not interested in cherry blossoms.
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Without bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance all over the world?
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Bone Cold Deep Fragrance Nature Perfume World
Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.
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Insect Old Pond Sing Winter
Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
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Better Choice Leadership Life Original Poetry Reality Write
All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.
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Friendship Moon Ugly View
From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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Fall Food Tree
Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.
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Calm Rock Serene Sound
Year’s end, all corners of this floating world, swept.
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Age Float Time World
This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.
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Autumn Disappear Growth Myself Old
The journey itself is my home.
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Home Journey Myself
I hope to have gathered To repay your kindness The willow leaves Scattered in the garden.
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Garden Hope Kindness Pay
Summer grasses — all that remains of great soldiers’ imperial dreams.
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Dreams Greatness Summer
There came a day when the clouds drifting along with the wind aroused a wanderlust in me, and I set off on a journey to roam along the seashores
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Day Journey Myself Sea Wind

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