In a spring morning
when coolness and warmth becomes one
wind blows secretly

Passing through the dreams of night
passing through the dreams of day
and
that which has reached here
is a fragrance of life and a fragrance of death
a dance of heaven and a dance of earth

Live the delight just existing there
and live the sadness just existing there
Live the sorrow just existing there
and live the joy just existing there

Not adding anything
Not deducting anything
each and everything is joined together

Wind blows secretly

Like a sound of flower
whispering in a spring field
it passes quietly
without being noticed by anyone