in my garden I pick a musk melon feeling like a thief

Young leaves The sound of a waterfall Heard from far and near.

Lighting one candle from another - Winter night

Throw open your window and let the scenery of clouds and sky enter your room.

In pale moonlight / the wisteria's scent / comes from far away.

In the spring rain, The pond and the river Have become one.

In lantern-light My yellow Chrysanthemums Lost all their color

Grasses are misty, The waters silent- A tranquil evening.

In the water bucket a melon and an eggplant nodding to each other

I came to the flowers; I slept beneath them; this was my leisure.

Calligraphy of geese against the sky- the moon seals it.

Since when, " he asked, "Are the first line and last line of any poemWhere the poem begins and ends?

When I was 11, I made truffle risotto for my family for Christmas dinner.

Sometimes your disappointments make you a stronger person for the future.

Within a bony labrinthean cave, Reached by the pulse of the aerial wave, This sibyl, sweet, and Mystic Sense is found, Muse, that presides o'er all the Powers of Sound.

It's hard to live your life in color, and tell the truth in black and white.

My vision is to elevate the consciousness of humanity one mind, one heart, one life, one spirit at a time. They are married.

Cold - cold as truth, cold as life. No, nothing can be as cold as life.

Somewhere out there was a village I'd deprived of it's idiot.

Viewers can hate a character and at the same time can't take their eyes off of him.

Teenage boys cannot be trusted. Their intentions are not pure.