Even In Kyoto/hearing The Cuckoo's Cry/i Long

I Hope To Have Gathered To Repay Your Kindness The Willow Leaves Scattered In The Garden.

Collecting All The Rains Of May The Swift Mogami River.

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

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

Poverty's Child - He Starts To Grind The Rice, And Gazes At The Moon.