In Spring It Is The Dawn

In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful.
As the light creeps over the hills, their outlines
are dyed a faint red and wisps of purplish cloud
trail over them.

In summer the nights. Not only when the moon
shines, but on dark nights too, as the fireflies
flit to and fro, and even when it rains, how
beautiful it is!

In autumn the evenings, when the glittering sun
sinks close to the edge of the hills and the crows
fly back to their nests in threes and fours and
twos; more charming still is a file of wild geese,
like specks in the distant sky. When the sun has
set, one's heart is moved by the sound of the wind
and the hum of the insects.

In winter the early mornings. It is beautiful
indeed when snow has fallen during the night, but
splendid too when the ground is white with frost;
or even when there is no snow or frost, but it is
simply very cold and the attendants hurry from room
to room stirring up the fires and bringing
charcoal, how well this fits the season's mood!
But as noon approaches and the cold wears off, no
one bothers to keep the braziers alight, and soon
nothing remains but piles of white ashes.