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New feet within my garden go --
New fingers stir the sod --
A Troubadour upon the Elm
Betrays the solitude
New children play upon the green --
New Weary sleep below --
And still the pensive Spring returns --
And still the punctual Snow!
-- Emily Dickinson --
from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Dead my old fine hopes
And dry my dreaming but still . . .
Iris, blue each spring
-- Shushiki --
Angry I strode home . . .
But stooping in my garden
Calm old willow tree
-- Ryota --
I guess that, at times, we may not be as important as we think we are.
both haiku from A Little Treasury of Haiku
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