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i was splintered and torn the hill-path mounted swifter than my feet
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have you heard o god seated on the cliff how far toward the ledges of your house how far i had to walk
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bear me to dictaeus and to the steep slopes to the river erymanthus
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as i pass down the corridor past desperate faces at each cell your eyes and my eyes may meet
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an old pond and the sound of a frog leaping into the water
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on the mountain-road there is no flower more beautiful than the wild violet
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there is faint sound of quavering strings the reedy murmurs of a flute the soft sigh of the wind through silken garments
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and the prince came to the craggy rock but saw only hissing waves so he rested all day amid them
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he dreams it is the murmur of distant wave-caps breaking upon the painted screen
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the peony dancer swirls orange folds of dusty robes through the summer
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heavy blooms breaking and spilling fiery cups drowsily
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faint rose anticipation colours her and sunset she is a cherry-tree that has taken long to bloom
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late summer changes to autumn chrysanthemums are scattered behind the palings
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far in the shadow the daimyo's attendant waits nervously fingering his sword
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wave on wave her heavy robes collapse in green torrents lashed with slaty foam
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downward the sun strikes amid them and enkindles a lone flower a violet iris standing yet in seething pools of grey
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swift waves hissing under the moonlight tarnished silver
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swaying boats under the moonlight gold lacquered prows
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she dreamed of some lover to whom she might offer her body fresh and cool as a flower born in the rain
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in their bark of bamboo reeds the heavenly poetesses float across the sky
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my thoughts are sparrows passing through one great wave that breaks in bubbles of gold on a black motionless rock
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in his face were written ages of patient treachery and the knowledge of his hour
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my love for her at first was like the smoke that drifts across the marshes from burning woods
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but after she had gone it was like the lotus that lifts up its heart shaped buds from the dim waters
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my heart is mournful as thunder moving through distant hills late on a long still night of autumn
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on my heart is the black badge of exile i droop over it i accept its shame
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through the weak spring rains two lovers walk together holding together the parasol
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spring rain falls through the cherry blossom in long blue shafts on grasses strewn with delicate stars
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the summer rain sifts through the drooping willow shatters the courtyard leaving grey pools
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the autumn rain drives through the maples scarlet threads of sorrow towards the snowy earth
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let my song sigh as the breeze through the cryptomerias and pause like long flags flapping and dart and flutter aloft like a wind-bewildered crane
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although there was no sound in all the house i could not forbear listening for the cry of those long white rippling waves dragging up their strength to break on the sullen beach of the sky
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the harmonies of the robes of this gay lady are like chants within a temple sweeping outwards to the morn
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sparrows and tame magpies chatter in the porticoes lit with many a lantern
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there is idle song scandal over full wine cups sorrow does not matter
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the green and violet peacocks with golden tails parade
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beneath the fluttering jangling streamers they walk violet and gold
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her life was like a swiftly rushing stream green and scarlet falling into darkness
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then in her heart they grew the snows of changeless winter stirred by the bitter winds of unsatisfied desire
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my thoughts are an autumn breeze lifting and hurrying dry rubbish about in a corner
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my thoughts are willow branches already broken motionless at twilight
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the wind shakes the mists making them quiver with faint drum-tones of thunder
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out of the crane-haunted mists of autumn blue and brown rolls the moon
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despair hangs in the broken folds of my garments it clogs my footsteps like snow in the cherry bloom
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pilgrims will ascend the road in early summer passing my tombstone mossy long forgotten
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because of the long pallid petals of white chrysanthemums waving to and fro i dare not go
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swallows twittering at twilight waves of heat churned to flames by the sun
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a piece of paper ready to toss in the fire blackened scrawled with fragments of an incomplete song my soul
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there is a goddess who walks shrouded by day at night she throws her blue veil over the earth men only see her naked glory through the little holes in the veil
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the splaying silhouette of horse-chestnut leaves against the tall and delicate patrician-tinged sky like a princess in blue robes behind a grille of bronze
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in that bower there is a chair where doth sit the fairest fair that did ever eye behold
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this is she the wise the rich that the world desires to see there is none but only she
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thus at base they run they run when the sport was scarce begun but i waked and all was done
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no i say and think and write it write and think and say your pleasure love and truth and i indite it
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and and no man e'er know why
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and now oh now i die
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mine eyes shall be th' interpreters alone by them conceive my thoughts and tell me fair if now you see her that doth love me there
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god shield the stock if heaven send no supplies the fairest blossom of the garden dies
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arthur held at camelot his christmas feast with all the knights of the round table full fifteen days
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at vch farand fest among his fre meny in halle he of face so bold makes much mirth with all
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the foal that he rode upon was green sertayn it was a steed full stiff to guide
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al bigrauen with grene in gracios werkes thus arrayed the green knight enters the hall without saluting any one
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he asks for the governor of the company gladly i wolde raysoun
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reled hym vp doun and looks for the most renowned he stemmed con studie
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wyth ryche cote armure his spurs are then fixed and his sword is attached to his side by a silken girdle
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he made non abode meanwhile many a weary way goes sir gawayne mony wylsum way he rode
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sir gawayne goes to the chief gate in haste and finds the draw-bridge raised and the gates shut fast
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night approaches and then sir gawayne takes his leave and retires to rest sir gawen his leue con nyme
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whatsoever says the host i win in the wood shall be yours and what check you achieve shall be mine a bargain is made between them
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all this time gawayne lies a-bed g under coverture full clear
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there are ladies says his visitor who would prefer thy company to much of the gold that they possess scho made hym so gret chere
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the remembrance of his adventure prevents him from thinking of love boute hone the lady takes leave of sir gawayne
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i haf seten by your-self here sere twyes have never talked to me of love you ought to show a young thing like me some token of 'true-love's crafts
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thus gawayne defends himself bot blysse the lady having kissed the knight takes leave of him
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none durst approach him he hade hurt so mony byforne so many had he torn with his tusks
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so stronge gawayne is called to receive the spoil he calde he com gayn
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full still and softly he sleeps all night sir g: lis slepes early in the morning the lord is up
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after mass a morsel he take with his men after messe a morsel he his men token then were all on their horses before the hall-gates
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for gile sir gawayne swears by st john that he neither has nor desires one
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with much mirth and minstrelsy they made merry until the time came for them to part gawayne takes leave of his host
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he asks for a man to teach him the way to the green chapel wyth a goud wylle a servant is assigned to him
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bi greue such worchip he wolde hym weue and then he takes leave of the ladies
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bot forto sauen hym-self when suffer hym by-houed to byde bale with-oute dabate of bronde hym to were all the renowned assembly he thanks full oft
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then he pursues his journey rides through the dale and looks about he sees no sign of a resting-place but only high and steep banks
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the other reproved him saying thou art not gawayne that is so good esteemed for thou fleest for fear before thou feelest harm
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and addressed him as follows: bold knight be not so wroth i promised thee a stroke and thou hast it be satisfied i could have dealt worse with thee
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ful bene sayde with my wyf i wene we schal yow wel acorde
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he still carried about him the belt a belef as a bauderyk bounden bi his syde in token of his fault
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thus he comes to the court of king arthur great then was the joy of all the king and his knights ask him concerning his journey
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little mistress mine good-bye i have been your sparrow true dig my grave for i must die
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waste no tear and heave no sigh life should still be blithe for you little mistress mine good-bye
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in your garden let me lie underneath the pointed yew dig my grave for i must die
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we have loved the quiet sky with its tender arch of blue little mistress mine good-bye
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that i still may feel you nigh in your virgin bosom too dig my grave for i must die
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xii to m asinius who stole napery
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lxxxvii lxxv to lesbia
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meus hic pulicianus tam bellum sibi passerem catulli intra viscera habere concupiscit
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or on thy lips the fierce fond boy marks with his teeth the furious joy francis
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quidam mollior anseris medulla furatum venit hoc amor poenae furetur licet usque non videbo
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one than a goose's marrow softer far comes hither stealing for it's penalty sake steal he as please him: i will see him not
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