Confucius
Lengthy return
Inward fall
Void of season
Mill another home from time

Where I am alive
I have no rice
The fields are useless
The void grows unfertil
Soils fortune in war
Against sky ink is wasted

The lend of mind
The lend of a mind?


One being unable
To contemplate waters value
Cannot concentrate rice

The flower rots in hands

Sent to Ireland and the office of the Dali Lama