must not be exposed, flavour must not be short, rhythm must not be scattered and spiritless, neither must it be hurried and cursory.
The spirit of words can be varied like birds flying suddenly up and suddenly down, but it must not be self-contradictory.
There are three stages in learning to compose poetry. At first, not knowing good or bad, the pen scribbles page after page. After knowing shame, shrinking fear begins to dawn, and to compose becomes extremely difficult. But when the stage of clarity and transparency is reached, poetry is picked up, right and left, at the command of the hand, and everywhere there is order.
One must be able to distinguish the styles of poets, like distinguishing black and white, before one can talk of poetry.
EVENING
It is evening.
The mountains sit as impenetrable as Buddhas.
The light falls upon their foreheads
Leaving their quiet forms and vast robes in
darkness,
The sky hangs drooping above their heads
Like a canopy,
And the immense earth is awed beneath their
feet.
Only the lowing of the cows and the calls of
the herd boys in the meadows
Come faintly to their ears.
