River bank—the evening tides have started to ebb.
Wind-swept woods—frosty leaves are thinning out.
I lean on my cane; the bramble gate is quiet.
I long for my friend; mountain colors—dim and faint.
Wind-swept woods—frosty leaves are thinning out.
I lean on my cane; the bramble gate is quiet.
I long for my friend; mountain colors—dim and faint.
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