O, from the ancient days always there have been travelers. So why should I grieve?

Blue is the smoke of wrar, white the bones of men.

Could I get mansions covering ten thousand miles, I'd house all the poor scholars and make them beam with smiles

My heart is in a world of water and crystal, My clothes are damp in this time of spring rains.

The weeping voices rise straight up and strike the clouds. A passer-by at the roadside asks a conscript why, The conscript answers only that drafting happens often.

A falcon hovers at the edge of the sky.Two gulls drift slowly up the river.Vulnerable while they ride the wind,they coast and glide with ease.Dew is heavy on the grass below,the spider's web is ready.Heaven's ways include the human:among a thousand sorrows, I stand alone.

I see shining fish struggling within tight nets, while I hear orioles singing carefree tunes. Even trivial creatures know the difference between freedom and bondage. Sympathy and compassion should be but natural to the human heart.

The bitter pinecone may be eaten, The mist on high give nourishment. The whole world takes to go-and-getting My way alone is difficult.

This cream will help one's nature strengthen and grow, The diet gives support in my decline.