Nothing in the cry of the cicada,
shows that it will soon die.
So thick the bamboo grow,
Yet they do not obstruct the running stream
So lofty the mountain is.
Yet it does not impede the white cloud floating
All beings by nature are Buddha,
as ice by nature is water;
apart from water there is no ice,
apart from beings no Buddha.
When I look carefully
I see the nazuna blooming by the hedge
Three years of bitter suffering
To finish planting the bamboo.
One more careful night of work
And it turns out, plum trees.