Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the men of old; seek what they sought.
Contributed by: Zaady
Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
O cricket from your cherry cry No one would ever guess How quickly you must die.
Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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