O cherry blossoms,
 
your fragrance guides my footsteps
 
in the pilgrim way.

 
 

In my wooden flute
 
my breath becomes plum blossoms—
 
fragrance for the world.

 
 

Fragrance of cocoa
 
stains the summer morning air—
 
chocolate daisies bloom.

 
 

Had April not come,
 
I would have missed the fragrance
 
of cherry blossoms.

 
 
 

If cherry blossoms
 
spread their fragrance in Ukraine,
 
surely war will cease!

 
 
 

simple winter joys—
 
the fragrance of fresh coffee
 
and a piece of toast

 
 
 

Though my way is clear,
 
I stumble on the fragrance
 
of cherry blossoms.

 
 
 

My father’s old shirt—
 
the fragrance of mountain mist
 
lingers on the sleeves.

 
 
 

The sleeves of my shirt
 
still bear the fragrance of pine
 
from distant mountains.

 
 
 

Above the fragrance
 
of incense in the temple
 
a spider dangles.