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The snow lying on the roof tiles is a touch hard, the dead trees’ twigs are sleepy like a deer; six o’clock on a winter morning, my head too is sleepy.
The birds pass by singing - the garden earth is sleepy like a deer. - The wood has fled, the farmhouse has fled. The sky is sad weakness. My heart is sad…
- Nakahara Chūya, “Winter Daybreak” from The Poems of Nakahara Chūya