Page:Brinkley - Japan - Volume 6.djvu/107
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OBSERVANCES AND PASTIMES
IBon, Bon, with us yet, To-day and to-morrow pass; Bon, Bon, or three suns set Dies like the dead grass, Dead on the winter hill, Yet Bon now is with us still.
With dead grass the altar wreathe; Red overhead the sunshine burns, To peonies the dead grass turns, Looked at from beneath.
With dead grass the altar crown, Silver-soft the moonlight gleams, Flowers of ruth the dead grass seems To spirits looking down.
Flowers of the peony Bloom to pass away; Bloom of the pity flower Bides here but to-day.
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