# 007 iroha
A calligraphy of iroha Poem by me. What makes this poem is that each Japanese syllable, there was the time that occurs only once, so it was once used as an alphabet.
translation:
Although the colors (of flowers) smell, they are (still) has fallen. What is (already) in the course of our world constantly! The distant Mountains of the impermanence (change) border, there is no shallow dream, no bias in the noise.
All is forgiven with a crossed number!
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