I sojourn along the seashore
Alone and ailing from my own woe
Contemplating and singing melancholy
When no one heard my dolorus tone

I bedecked myself with the festoon of
Withered blooms and continued the
Melody of woebegone unless the dusk
Broke into the nightfall

I was wailing to place my blazing cicatrix
In thy liniment amour but thou were lost
In betwixt the Orion of the winter sky, I still
...