Last day in this hut, she takes in
sun, shadow, familiar walls;
collected things seem to her
reluctant as she to leave
The farm has passed beyond her strength and will, and she turns toward town.
Though we do not preach the doctrine,
Unasked the flowers bloom in spring;
They fall and scatter,
They turn to dust.
Unasked the flowers bloom in spring;
They fall and scatter,
They turn to dust.
--Ikkyu, tr. R. H. Blyth