Waking in the night;
the lamp is low,
the oil freezing.

It has rained enough
to turn the stubble on the field 

Winter rain
falls on the cow-shed;
a cock crows. 

The leeks
newly washed white,-
how cold it is!

 The sea darkens;
the voices of the wild ducks
are faintly white. 

 Ill on a journey;
my dreams wander
over a withered moor.