For This Lovely Bowl Let Us Arrange

Around Existence Twine, (oh, Bridge That Hangs Across The Gorge!) Ropes Of Twisted Vine.

The Journey Itself Is My Home.

How Much I Desire! Inside My Little Satchel, The Moon, And Flowers

Don't Imitate Me / We Are Not Two Halves / Of A Muskmelon.

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