"Dew is heavy on the grass below, the spider's web is ready. Heaven's ways include the human: among a thousand sorrows, I stand alone."

"The ladle's cast aside, the cup not green, The stove still looks as if a fiery red. To many places, communications are broken, I sit, but cannot read my books for grief."

"Saddened by the times I weep at the flowers tormented by the partings even the birds startle my heart."

"My poems are no use—they won’t fill anyone’s stomach."

"A falcon hovers at the edge of the sky. Two gulls drift slowly up the river. Vulnerable while they ride the wind, they coast and glide with ease."