Don't Imitate Me / We

The Haiku That Reveals Seventy To Eighty Percent Of Its Subject Is Good. Those That Reveal Fifty To Sixty Percent, We Never Tire Of.

Year's End, All Corners Of This Floating World, Swept.

Orchidbreathing Incense Into Butterfly's Wings

My Body, Now Close To Fifty Years Of Age, Has Become An Old Tree That Bears Bitter Peaches, A Snail Which Has Lost Its Shell, A Bagworm Separated From Its Bag; It Drifts With The Winds And Clouds That Know No Destination. Morning And Night I Have Eaten Traveler's Fare, And Have Held Out For Alms A Pilgrim's Wallet.

O Cricket From Your Cherry Cry No One Would Ever Guess How Quickly You Must Die.