Felling A Tree And Gazing At The

First Snow-falling-on The Half-finished Bridge.

Summer Grasses — All That Remains Of Great Soldiers' Imperial Dreams.

April's Air Stirs In Willow-leaves...a Butterfly Floats And Balances

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

Calm And Serene The Sound Of A Cicada Penetrates The Rock.