LEANING ON THE EASTERN WINDOW

Behind a clear pane, I lean on the window hopelessly facing east.
Vainly From year to year, and in a dim room
I’ve remotely composed mediocre lines to away stay idleness.
Vaguely, I seem not to discern futility of the fruitless occupation.
In the dusk mirror alas,
I now see the brief youthfulness fleet or waste away in to dark oblivion!
All my life I’ll regret the early misfortunes!

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