Dew-Drops on a Lotus Leaf: 4 Autumn

With gentle pace I tread Kugami's mountain way.
The gray soft air of twilight hangs In gathering folds about me.
Deer startle the silence as they call
To one another from the hill.
And down below in hollowed woods
Along the path the maple leaves in timid mood
Stir and fall gently, as if afraid 
To break the shadowy spell of night.
I halt not in my going but as I move, 
The mountain folds me in its darkening gloom 
And I am filled with sadness.