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Waning moon in an autumn sky
illuminates life’s wealth;
Harvest of labors drawing nigh
great treasures to be shelved.

Vernal pleasures of yesterday
to mud entrust sweet dreams;
Optimism Man’s great outlay
with hope world is redeemed.

Plant tiny seeds then watch them grow
furnish them with their needs.
What future brings, nobody knows
upward we cast our pleas.

Tender and fragile are green sprouts
to which we’ve given birth;
In heavy torrent and in drought
our hopes tied to the earth.

Rank weeds that look to suffocate
and destroy nascent life
Must be excised with greatest haste
‘fore they become too rife.

Sizzle beneath the summer sun
without whom naught would live;
‘Tis growing season, Sol’s great run,
vigil with light votive.

Still, hope and fear endeavor on
worries do not sway fate;
Summer’s fading, harvest’s begun,
dreams we now cultivate.

Tempestuousness left behind
victory is at hand.
Round great calamities did wind
behold, fruit of our land!

Though demanding is the labor
of harvesting the earth,
Willingly attack each acre
engulfed in song and mirth.

Seeds nourished with optimism
tended with loving care
Have produced crops ripe and wholesome,
rich gift without compare.

A small respite now from labor
as fields have all been gleaned;
Bounty for both kin and neighbor
at feast we all convene.

Multitude of laborer’s hands
that hungry mouths do feed;
United we can make a stand
to create what we need.

This is only world we’re given
we must decide our fate.
Shall we build for green tomorrow
or accept rule of hate?

The harvest moon is setting low
and soon winter arrives,
Will hatred be the crop we sow
or will we let love thrive?

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