... The soul has to stay where it is, Even though restless, hearing raindrops at the pane, The sighing of autumn leaves thrashed by the wind, Longing to be free, outside, but it must stay ...
I lean my head slowly to the side, reflect on the camellia on the moss
of the temple, reflect on a cup of tea, while outside the wind is rustling
the foliage, the forward rush of life is crystallised in a brilliant jewel
of a moment that knows neither plans nor future, human destiny is rescued
from the pale succession of days, glows with light at last and, surpassing
time, warms my tranquil heart.