The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse
TRULY, I love this life of seclusion. Carrying my staff, I walk toward a friend’s cottage. The trees in his garden, soaked by the evening rain, Reflect the cool, clear autumnal sky. The owner’s dog comes to greet me; Chrysanthemums bloom along the fence. These people have the same spirit as the ancients; An earthen wall marks their separation from
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