Old castle,
by the river,
in the middle of a forest.

At the pristine lake,
looking in,
eyes looking out.

Dry twigs cracking,
under footsteps,
flowers avoided.

The evening shadows,
sweep the ground,
but raise no dust.

Yellow, orange, red sun,
moody fellow,
leaves early.

Two bamboos,
by each other,
swaying in the wind.

In the dark forest,
a berry drops,
the sound of water.