At The Ancient Pond The Frog Plunges

Winter Solitude- In A World Of One Colour The Sound Of The Wind.

An Autumn Night - Don’t Think Your Life Didn’t Matter.

How I Long To See Among Dawn Flowers, The Face Of God.

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.

Without Bitterest Cold That Penetrates To The Very Bone, How Can Plum Blossoms Send Forth Their Fragrance All Over The World?