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Autumn’s Cold

here’s my snowy crown
          time’s tinted decrepitude
there’s the frost in the courtyard
          autumn’s glittery breath
now I’m sick and just watching my wife
          pick cure-alls
then I’m frozen waiting for the maid
          to comb my hair
without the body
          what use fame?
worldly things
          I’ve put aside
tranquilly
          I delve my heart
determined now
          to learn from Empty Boats!

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