Day after day he comes and goes aw
Go, and give him a flower from my
If he asks who was it that sent it
He sits on the dust under the tree
Spread there a seat with flowers a

You are the evening cloud floating
I paint you and fashion you ever w
You are my own, my own, Dweller i
Your feet are rosy-red with the gl
Your lips are bitter-sweet with th

On many an idle day have I grieve
But it is never lost, my lord.
Thou hast taken every moment of my
Hidden in the heart of things thou
buds into blossoms, and ripening f

I plucked your flower, O world!
I pressed it to my heart and the t
When the day waned and it darkened
More flowers will come to you with
But my time for flower-gathering i

Traveller, must you go?
The night is still and the darknes
The lamps are bright in our balcon
Is the time for your parting come?
Traveller, must you go?

When storm—clouds rumble in the sk
The moist east wind comes marching
bagpipes among the bamboos.
Then crowds of flowers come out of
where, and dance upon the grass in

If you would have it so, I will e
If it sets your heart aflutter, I
If it suddenly startles you in you
If it confuses you in your flower-
If it makes the water wanton and w

“Come to us, youth, tell us truly
“I know not what wine of wild popp
“Ah, shame!”
“Well, some are wise and some fool
“Youth, why do you stand so still

`Prisoner, tell me, who was it tha
`It was my master,' said the priso
`I thought I could outdo everybod
and I amassed in my own treasure—h
When sleep overcame me I lay upon

Day by day I float my paper boats
In bid black letters I write my n
I hope that someone in some strang
I load my little boats with shiuli
I launch my paper boats and look u