Tune: “Wind Through Pines”
Hearing the wind and rain while mourning for the dead,
Sadly I draft an elegy on flowers.
We parted on the dark-green road before these bowers,
Where willow branches hang like thread,
Each inch revealing
Our tender feeling.
I drown my grief in wine in chilly spring,
Drowsy, I wake again when orioles sing,
In Garden West I sweep the pathway
From day to day,
Enjoying the fine view
Still without you.
On the ropes of the swing the wasps often alight
For fragrance spread by fingers fair.
I’m grieved not to see your foot-traces: all night
The mossy steps are left untrodden there.