Spring Rain Leaking Through The Roof Dripping

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

With Every Gust Of Wind, The Butterfly Changes Its Place On The Willow.

Go To The Object. Leave Your Subjective Preoccupation With Yourself. Do Not Impose Yourself On The Object. Become One With The Object. Plunge Deep Enough Into The Object To See Something Like A Hidden Glimmering There.

O Cricket From Your Cherry Cry No One Would Ever Guess How Quickly You Must Die.

Every Moment Of Life Is The Last, Every Poem Is A Death Poem.