| Over the shingled roof the shower has passed |
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| The Clear-toned cicadas have exhausted their voices |
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| The Rim of a foot-wearying mountain hazy at dawn |
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| The Clouds of May rain have closed into one |
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| Shallow of me: I have grieved over this uncertain life |
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| Counting the dewdrops that vie in falling off |
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| A Short night — outside the window bamboo rustles |
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| Deep in the mountains, through the pine door closed |
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| Sleeping, wanting to have the past that does not return |
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| Evening mists in the depths of my heart |
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