Blending with the wind,
Snow falls;
Blending with the snow,
The wind blows.
By the hearth
I stretch out my legs,
Idling my time away
Confined in this hut.
Counting the days,
I find that February, too,
Has come and gone
Like a dream.
Ryokan
__________________
Too much intellectual pride and not enough intellectual beauty
To Thine own Self be True
The Frost performs its secret ministry,Unhelped by any wind. Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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