When I Speak My Lips Feel Cold

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

The Oak Tree: Not Interested In Cherry Blossoms.

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

The Old Pond, Ah! A Frog Jumps In: The Water's Sound.

Ballet In The Air... Twin Butterflies Until, Twice White They Meet, They Mate