OBSERVANCES AND PASTIMES
I
Bon, Bon, with us yet,
To-day and to-morrow pass;
Bon, Bon, or three suns set
Dies like the dead grass,
Dead on the winter hill,
Yet Bon now is with us still.
Bon, Bon, with us yet,
To-day and to-morrow pass;
Bon, Bon, or three suns set
Dies like the dead grass,
Dead on the winter hill,
Yet Bon now is with us still.
With dead grass the altar wreathe;
Red overhead the sunshine burns,
To peonies the dead grass turns,
Looked at from beneath.
Red overhead the sunshine burns,
To peonies the dead grass turns,
Looked at from beneath.
With dead grass the altar crown,
Silver-soft the moonlight gleams,
Flowers of ruth the dead grass seems
To spirits looking down.
Silver-soft the moonlight gleams,
Flowers of ruth the dead grass seems
To spirits looking down.
Flowers of the peony
Bloom to pass away;
Bloom of the pity flower
Bides here but to-day.
Bloom to pass away;
Bloom of the pity flower
Bides here but to-day.
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