| The Sound of pine winds and their color are one |
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| Lonelier still than last year |
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| A Lamplight in the window at slow dawn |
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| A Stalling ox, shuffling, swirls up dust |
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| Like some ailing leaf |
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| Straw mattress: the Bridge Princess of Uji |
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| Like tinkling gems, neither dewdrops nor tears stay |
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| They become fragrant, and the Spring ends |
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| Against the cherries on the hazy hilltop |
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| Loneliness is more intense with frost than with snow |
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