AFTER SNOWFALL
Leaning on my staff,
I watch the sky clearing after snow;
clouds are layered high
over the mountain stream.
As the woodcutter
returns to his hut,
a cold sun sets
on perilous peaks.
A farmer's fire
burns the grass along a ridge;
wisps of cook smoke rise
in rock-girt pines.
Returning to the temple
along the mountain road, I hear the striking
of the evening bell.
