Three poems for the season

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By Monday, Dec 25 Arts & Entertainment

By Matsuo Basho

When the winter chrysanthemums go,

there’s nothing to write about

but radishes.


By Robert Frost

The way a crow

Shook down on me

The dust of snow

From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart

A change of mood

And saved some part

Of a day I had rued.




By Robert Louis Stevenson

Summer fading, winter comes-

Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,

Window robins, winter rooks,

And the picture story-books.

Water now is turned to stone

Nurse and I can walk upon;

Still we find the flowing brooks

In the picture story-books.


All the pretty things put by,

Wait upon the children’s eye,

Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,

In the picture story-books.


We may see how all things are

Seas and cities, near and far,

And the flying fairies’ looks,

In the picture story-books.


How am I to sing your praise,

Happy chimney-corner days,

Sitting safe in nursery nooks,

Reading picture story-books?


Illustrations by Adam Gudeon

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