Waking in the night;
the lamp is low,
the oil freezing.


It has rained enough
to turn the stubble on the field
black.



Winter rain
falls on the cow-shed;
a cock crows.



The leeks
newly washed white,-
how cold it is!



The sea darkens;
the voices of the wild ducks
are faintly white.



Ill on a journey;
my dreams wander
over a withered moor.