Lo the leaf which fallth down,
To lie unrequited by the ground.
He knows not what the ground has seen,
And ask, despite the ground's cold mien:
"I know not what you understand,
"And yet I ask - please mother land -
Which way doth the wind choose to blow?
And which way doth it blow the snow?
and the earth, her eyes shut tight,
overwrite 9 And the earth, her eyes shut tight,
Simply prepares for the oncoming night.
She shrugs away the little leaf's plead,
Brishing it away with haste and speed.
overwrite 13 Brushing it away with haste and speed.
The little leaf froze in the snow that night,
Now, need you cause such unnecessary blight?

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Midsummer, in the year 114 MA.