An Evening in the Mountains

 After rain the empty mountain 
Stands autumnal in the evening, 
Moonlight in its groves of pine, 
Stones of crystal in its brooks. 
Bamboos whisper of washer-girls bound home, 
Lotus-leaves yield before a fisher-boat -- 
And what does it matter that springtime has gone, 
While you are here, O Prince of Friends?

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