Depressed by my failure to procure her back,
To dispel bitter resentments, in solitary
I indulge deeply at the secluded river bank.
Regretting, brooding, lamenting
Contemplating my heartfelt despairs
All my life I have vainly composed pairs of heart-broken lines.
Concerning my dear and dearly among clustered pines,
How many poems in rhymes have I chanted drunkenly at midnight
On a dull July hour, and in a far off simple town kindled with sparse lamps
Forever I long again for the past and grief tirelessly over my current