| How I think of it! |
|
|
| If a seed is there / the pine will sprout |
|
|
| No promises—yet I wait |
|
|
| If I'd known / it was old age calling |
|
|
| The Great net |
|
|
| If love could be bought |
|
|
| Song of the Lute |
|
|
| After the Last Light of the Setting Sun Had Vanished, the Moon Shone in My Window |
|
|
| Yüan Wei-chih and I Are Both Old and Heirless, a Fact We've Lamented in Words and Touched on in Our Poetry |
|
|
| Mount Yoshino / looking at pines awhile |
|
|