Despair

Searching, seeking.

Seeking, searching:

What comes of it but

Coldness and desolation,

A world of dreariness and misery

And stabbing pain!

As soon as one feels a bit of warmth

A sense of chill returns:

A time so hard to have a quiet rest.

What avail two or three cups of tasteless wine

Against a violent evening wind?

Wild geese wing past at this of all hours,

And it suddenly dawns on me

That I've met them before.

Golden chrysanthemums in drifts -

How I'd have loved to pick them,

But now, for whom? On the ground they lie strewn,

Faded, neglected.

There's nothing for it but to stay at the window,

Motionless, alone.

How the day drags before dusk descends!

Fine rain falling on the leaves of parasol-trees

Drip, drip, drop, drop, in the deepening twilight.

To convey all the melancholy feelings

Born of these scenes

Can the one word "sorrow" suffice?