There are no roses in my yard: what wind brought you?But I suddenly come from far away. I was sick for a moment.No wind whatsoever brought you now.Now you’re here.What you were isn’t you, or else the whole rose would be here.

All beings exist and nothing elseAnd that’s why they’re called beings

Nature never remembers, that’s why she’s beautiful.

Other times when I hear the wind blowI feel that just hearing the wind blow makes it worth being born.

I love flowers for being flowers, directly.And I love trees for being trees without my thought.

That thing over there was more there than it’s there!Yes, sometimes I cry about the perfect body that doesn’t exist.But the perfect body is the bodiest body there can be,And the rest are the dreams men have,The myopia of someone who doesn’t look very much,

Things don’t have significance: they only have existence.Things are the only hidden meaning of things.

Yes, this is what my senses alone have learned:—Things don’t have significance: they only have existence.Things are the only hidden meaning of things.