Old Pond, Frog Jumps In - Plop.

Real Poetry, Is To Lead A Beautiful Life. To Live Poetry Is Better Than To Write It.

Sitting Quietly, Doing Nothing, Spring Comes, And The Grass Grows, By Itself.

The Temple Bell Stops But I Still Hear The Sound Coming Out Of The Flowers.

Come, Butterfly It's Late- We've Miles To Go Together.

Mountain-rose Petals Falling, Falling, Falling Now... Waterfall Music