Poem made on “the exquisite mind of nirvana”:
Being always the flower
In my native place,
It has passed spring
Not changing the color.
Nehan-myōshin-wo eizu
Itsumo tada
Waga furusato-no
Hana nareba
Iro-mo kawarazu
Sugishi haru-kana
いつも只
我が古里の
花なれば
色もかはらず
過し春哉
