Gleanings
The silver threads of the moon
And the blue threads of the waves
Are entwined in embroidery
From the cape of Oge to the island of Awaji.
Shall I call it a light
Or a half light—
The autumnal glow
Across the ocean expanse?
Pathetic is the lone light
That in the rise and fall
Of the ocean waves
Now appears and now disappears.
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