_The songs in this story have been translated into English verse by my friend Mr. Osman Edwards, who has successfully accomplished the difficult task of retaining not only the rhymes, but also the lilting rhythm of the originals._ Lo, nowadays the earth is white or green, according as Winter rules or Spring. The thrush sings in the grove and the canary in his cage, the smoke rises from the house-top and the church-bell tolls for evensong. The monk walks in the meadow and the poet writes verse.…
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