Changes of light are living things And flit along the brook; On a willow-limb their images Are wounded wings of smoke.Two ways of life make the design, Two behaviours: The brook's way with the sun is mine; The willow's way is yours.You are a reachin [...]
OUT of my western window
The purple clouds are dying
Edged with fire;
And out of my eastern window
The full round moon is rising
Formed of ice.
So beautiful,
Although the day go by
And the night come on forever,
Is this momentary worl [...]
Spring is a wild thing for sure,—
What wilder ever ran!
But once in a while he will rub at the door
Of almost any man.
And here he is at my own sill,
Whining for me to know,—
Until I peer outside and feel
A flurry in the snow,
Find a clou [...]
He had gone away without good-bye, A thing he never would have done; For nobody loved him more than I— Except, perhaps, the sun.And the sun—when I said, "O tell me where!" Though it showed me some open pasture-bars Into the pathway of the air, G [...]
By a wall that circles the three Ch'in districts, In a mist that makes five rivers one, We bid each other a sad farewell, We two official wanderers. . . . And yet, while the Four Seas bind our friendship And heaven remains our neighborhood [...]
Snow whitens mountains westward and the forts of three cities, Waters from the southern lakes flash on miles of bridge; Wind and dust from sea to sea shut me from my brothers;
A wanderer hears drums, warning him of war, And that one cry of autumn from a wild-goose at the border, And he knows that the dews tonight will be frost
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