Break open a cherry tree and there are no flowers, but the spring breeze brings forth myriad blossoms.

Only one koan matters - you

sick of it whatever it's called sick of the names
I dedicate every pore to what's here

Studying texts and stiff meditation can make you lose your Original Mind.
A solitary tune by a fisherman, though, can be an invaluable treasure.
Dusk rain on the river, the moon peeking in and out of the clouds;
Elegant beyond words, he chants his songs night after night.

Like vanishing dew,
a passing apparition
or the sudden flash
of lightning -- already gone --
thus should one regard one's self.

here I am simply trying to get into your head
you think you were born you die what a pity