Though I cannot flee from the world of corruption, I can prepare tea with water from a mountain stream and put my heart to rest
Shape I may take, converse I may, but neither god nor Buddha am I, rather an insensate being whose heart thus differs from that of man.
The moon glows on the river, wind rustles the pines.
Long night clear evening–what are they for?
In friendship, bond not with a shallow man.
Without a constant livelihood, there will be no constant heart.