|Text(Edward G. Seidensticker; The Tale of Genji）|
The stables being nearby, fodder was brought from a granary or something of the sort beyond, and the feeding process was as novel and interesting as everything else.
Along the coast and in the hills the old monk had put up numerous buildings with which to take advantage of the four seasons: a reed-roofed beach cottage with fine seasonal vistas; beside a mountain stream a chapel of some grandeur and dignity, suitable for rites and mediation and invocation of the holy name; and rows of storehouses where the harvest was put away and a bountiful life assured for the years that remained.
<Evening Mist> P695-23
The autumn winds tore at the trees and the leaves of vines seemed fearful of being left behind. Someone far away was reading a sutra, and someone was invoking the holy name, and for the rest Ono seemed deserted. Indifferent to the clappers meant to frighten them from the harvests, the deer that sought shelter by the garden fences were somber spots among the hues of autumn.
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