The Journey Itself Is My Home.

If I Had The Knack I'd Sing Like Cherry Flakes Falling

A Weathered Skeleton In Windy Fields Of Memory, Piercing Like A Knife.

Between Our Two Lives There Is Also The Life Of The Cherry Blossom.

Not To Think Of Yourself / As Someone Who Did Not Count -- / Festival Of The Souls.

Go To The Pine If You Want To Learn About The Pine, Or To The Bamboo If You Want To Learn About The Bamboo. And In Doing So, You Must Leave Your Subjective Preoccupation With Yourself. Otherwise You Impose Yourself On The Object And You Do Not Learn.