The sorrow, like a wintry night,
Descends on me and devours me;
At my doorstep is the hound of death
With a hungry tongue and lethal teeth.
In me slowly melting is the sky
Littered with dreams of stars,
The life oozing out of the body
Like an old man’s stammering urine.
The flowers, the thorns, the breeze,
The streams, the stars, showers freeze:
In my drowsy mind they become dim,
In the river of amnesia they swim.
Life as a mute song and a dumb dream
Flowed like a waterless stream,
And now finally has come death
With a warrant to arrest the breath.
Closed are my grief-drunk eyes, at last,
The breath, as a sprinter, runs out fast.
And indeed waking up am I now
As if from a thorn-studded dream.