FROST upon small rain—the ebony-lacquered avenue
    Reflecting lamps as a pool shows goldfish.
The sight suddenly emptied out of the young man’s eyes
    Entering upon it sideways.

In youth, by hazard, I killed an old man.
            In age I maimed a little child.
Dead leaves under foot reproach not:
But the lop-sided cherry-branch—whenever the sun rises,
            How black a shadow!