|
This thing called parting
|
|
|
|
Like a wild cherry
|
|
|
|
Fifth-month hills
|
|
|
|
It's spring! / when threads of the green willow
|
|
|
|
Have the spring mists
|
|
|
|
As for people — well
|
|
|
|
In springtime / when the plum trees bloom
|
|
|
|
When night fell, when day broke
|
|
|
|
Blossoms, at least wait
|
|
|
|
Mists rise, tree buds swell
|
|
|