Autumn

02007-09-24 | Poetry | 0 comments

Autumn night – unable to sleep, I leave my tiny cottage.
Fall insects cry under the rocks, and
The cold branches are sparely covered.
Far away, from deep in the valley, the sound of water.
The moon rises slowly over the highest peak;
I stand there quietly for a long time and
My robe becomes moist with dew.

– Ryokan

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