**in the style of hasui kawase, dark nightsky, my boat and I, before the evening breeze Passing flowers, entering the lake, Turn at nightfall toward the western valley, Where I watch the south star over the mountain And a mist that rises, hovering soft, And the low moon slanting through the trees; And I choose to put away from me every worldly matter And only to be an old man with a fishing-pole.** - Image #2 <@799027658624598089>
in the style of hasui kawase, dark nightsky, my boat and I, before the evening breeze Passing flowers, entering the lake, Turn at nightfall toward the western valley, Where I watch the south star over the mountain And a mist that rises, hovering soft, And the low moon slanting through the trees And I choose to put away from me every worldly matter And only to be an old man with a fishingpole.