Year's End, All Corners Of This Floating

Sabi Is The Color Of Haikai. It Is Different From Tranquility. For Example, If An Old Man Dresses Up In Armor And Helmet And Goes To The Battlefield, Or In Colorful Brocade Kimono, Attending (his Lord) At A Banquet, [sabi] Is Like This Old Figure.

This Autumn- Why Am I Growing Old? Bird Disappearing Among Clouds.

Sitting Quietly, Doing Nothing, Spring Comes, And The Grass Grows, By Itself.

Real Poetry, Is To Lead A Beautiful Life. To Live Poetry Is Better Than To Write It.

When Your Consciousness Has Become Ripe In True Zazen-pure Like Clear Water, Like A Serene Mountain Lake, Not Moved By Any Wind-then Anything May Serve As A Medium For Realization.