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Winter night, A: the moon, clear beyond a leafless tree
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Away from home: over the dewdrops fragile on my pillow
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Opening on plum twigs in the unfaded snow
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With spring manifest on moss-grown
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Be a guide — this is a boat rowing in the traceless waves
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Oppressing all, sunken in autumn sorrows
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I broil shrimp and play with my illness
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Calls of a clapper rail far into the night
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Over the shingled roof the shower has passed
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The Clear-toned cicadas have exhausted their voices
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