All the day long-
yet not long enough for the skylark,
singing, singing.
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On the cow shed
Cock crowing.
bush-clover flowers —
their beads of dew
The butterfly is perfuming
Of the orchid.
I’m a wanderer
the first winter rain
The oak tree:
in cherry blossoms.Translated by Robert Hass
Tremble, oh my gravemound,
only this autumn wind