
the mountain fog
cannot keep the secrets
of the bare tree.

the mountain fog
cannot keep the secrets
of the bare tree.




hill slope trees
like staggering figures:
soon swallowed in fog.

beyond the lone pine;
there is only blank slate
and vast potential.
The tower has vanished in the fog;
The boat is hidden in moon-shadow;
The perfect peach field cannot be found.
I'm shut in by the cold rain of Spring.
I hear the cuckoo's call at sunset.
Apricot blossoms sent by my friends
In letters received through the post
Cause an assault by countless memories.
A lonely river rounds the mountain,
But why should it flow toward my lost world?

cool winter day:
clouds form thickly over
the hot springs.