I
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.

                                II
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!