WednesdayOct 07, 2026
Quotes: 53419 Authors: 9969
From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
O cricket from your cherry cry No one would ever guess How quickly you must die.
Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
Now the swinging bridge Is quieted with creepers Like our tendrilled life.
When I speak My lips feel cold The autumn wind.
The oak tree: not interested in cherry blossoms.
The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
Just washed, How chill The white leeks!
Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the men of old; seek what they sought.
Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
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