The leaves do not fear fall,
and the fading sun
does not quarrel with the moon.
The berries on the bough
are bitter indeed, so why
do I walk in these woods
on frozen nights of shadow
when you have not been here
for a thousand years?
The leaves do not fear fall,
and the fading sun
does not quarrel with the moon.
The berries on the bough
are bitter indeed, so why
do I walk in these woods
on frozen nights of shadow
when you have not been here
for a thousand years?