Without a word,
   The gist is grasped.
 With no wails or soft sobs,
   Sadness spreads heart-to-heart.
 There is an enigmatic Prime Mover
   With whom each of us either sinks or floats.
 Dregs of rustic wine in a fine strainer.
 Buds on the cusp of bloom turned back by cold.
 Dust motes spreading by Brownian motion.
 Sea spume floating and tumbling onto shore.
    Shallow, deep, cohering, or scattering.
 Of ten thousand, any sample will do. 

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the twelfth of the twenty-four poems. Translated titles vary: Herbert Giles entitled this one “Conservation,” whereas Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping called it “The Implicit Style.”