Waking in the night; 
the lamp is low, 
the oil freezing. 
 


It has rained enough 
to turn the stubble on the field 
black. 




Winter rain 
falls on the cow-shed; 
a cock crows. 




The leeks 
newly washed white,- 
how cold it is! 




The sea darkens; 
the voices of the wild ducks 
are faintly white. 





Ill on a journey; 
my dreams wander 
over a withered moor.