Come Out To View / The Truth

Now The Swinging Bridge Is Quieted With Creepers ... Like Our Tendrilled Life.

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

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.

Farewell, My Old Fan. / Having Scribbled On It, / What Could I Do But Tear It / At The End Of Summer?

Nothing In The Cry Of Cicadas Suggests They Are About To Die