Tidings

My tidings for you: the stag bells,

Winter snows, summer is gone.

Wind high and cold, low the sun,

Short his course, sea running high.

Deep-red the bracken, its shape all gone—

The wild-goose has raised his wonted cry.

Cold has caught the wings of birds;

Season of ice—these are my tidings.

(old Irish poem “Summer is gone”

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/32030/32030-h/32030-h.htm#Page_56)

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Amorous…

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BALLADS OF FOUR SEASONS: SUMMER

On Mirror Lake outspread for miles and miles,
The lotus lilies in full blossom teem.
In fifth moon Xi Shi gathers them with smiles,
Watchers o’erwhelm the bank of Yuoye Stream.
Her boat turns back without waiting moonrise
To yoyal house amid amorous sighs.

(by Li Po)

http://www.shigeku.org/xlib/lingshidao/hanshi/libai.htm

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