in the world outside is it harvesting time?

the grass of my hut for one touched by monkey cries how is it when a child's abandoned in autumn winds speaking out my lips are cold in autumn wind autumn wind in Ise's shrine cemetery even more lonely walking on and on even through I fall down sick in fields of clover from this very day erase the inscription with dew on the bamboo hat autumn colors without a pot of red-brown soup turn this way! I too feel lonely late in autumn

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