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You are like those scarves
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How ugly—take a good look at a man
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Even on spring days you work the fields
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If I'd known you were coming, love
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A Gem that gleams at night it may be
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Who has broken the tops of the reeds in the port?
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You hook it, but it's no fun
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If I enjoy myself in this world
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My wife whom I hid under the holy elm in Hatsuse
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On Seeing a Corpse on Mount Kagu
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