After the Snow in the Mountains
The paper quilt grows cold, the temple light dim;
The novice has not rung a bell all through the night.
He will start grumbling if I open the door so early.
But I have to see the garden pine laden with snow.
The novice has not rung a bell all through the night.
He will start grumbling if I open the door so early.
But I have to see the garden pine laden with snow.
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