Asks the Possible to the Impossible,
Where is your dwelling-place?
In the dreams of the impotent, comes the answer.
If you shut your door to all errors truth will be shut out.
I hear some rustle of things behind my sadness of heart,
-I cannot see them.
Leisure in its activity is work.
The stillness of the sea stirs in waves.
The leaf becomes flower when it loves.
The flower becomes fruit when it worships.
The roots below the earth claim no rewards for making the branches
fruitful.