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Syllabus
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Plumes of pampas grass, itıs the helplessness, of their trembling. |
A good world the dewdrops fall by ones, by twos.
Flowers scattering | the water we thirst for far off, in the mist.
Evening moon | they visit the graves, and cool off.
A dry riverbed | glimpsed by lightning.
What a strange thing | to be alive beneath cherry blossoms.
Cut the peony | nothing left in the garden.
The masonıs finger | bleeds near azaleas.
Morning breeze | riffling the caterpillarıs hair.
Having reddened the plum blossoms, | the sunset attacks oaks and pines.
Leaves some trout, | knocks, goes on, the evening gate.
White dew | one drop on each thorn.
The blow of an ax, | pine scent, the winter woods. |
Syllabus
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Copyright 2001 Advanced Computing Center for the Arts and Design and The Department of Theatre The Ohio State University |