YOU are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, I am the smaller one on its upper side,' said the dewdrop to the lake.

The music of the far-away summer flutters around the Autumn seeking its former nest.

Dark clouds become heaven's flowers when kissed by light.

Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.

The Vermont mountains stretch extended straight; New Hampshire mountains curl up in a coil.

Not yesterday I learned to know,The love of bare November days,Before the coming of the snow.