Summer to Autumn
As I wait for my love
In the summer twilight,
A red crab crawls up
The gate of the lighthouse beside me.
Fishing lights in the offing,
Numberless,
Are like the blossoms of camellias
Drifting from the isle of Idzu.
In the spring rain
The young nightingales
Sing in the nest
Made of my fallen hair.
The wings of a moth beat
Upon the screens of my mountain retreat
As if the autumn wind already
Had begun to blow.
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