Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
And beyond — white birds blaze in flight.
Sounds of cold-river rain grown familiar,
Autumn sun casts moist shadows. Below
Our brushwood gate, out to dry at the village
Mill: hulled rice, half-wet and fragrant
(Tu Fu)
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Based on Topics: Autumn PoemsBased on Keywords: cliffs, mill, glistening, moist, casts, rice, darken, thinning, blacken, brushwood, hulled