Thou art shrouded with a thorny bush,
And I perceive thy heart bleeds.
My heart longs to share thy glooms;
Yet thou hast built a fence 'twixt us.
What ails thee, my dear?
Am I a stranger not to drink thy pain?
Were you pricked or stabbed at heart
That thy joy is hid beneath the tears of thy smile?
Aren't you my beloved who can pour thy tears into soul
That I can find thee a way out in prayers?
I perceive dark clouds pass thro' thy life;
I know thy sorrows are as silent as thee;
Yet the arrows of thy sorrows hit me down.
You may think who I am to thee,
But I believe I have a heart that weeps with thee.
It is not my mere poesy, but the love that hugs thee.
Look! Thou hast bruised my heart with thy grief.
Pour thy sorrows into my heart of love,
And I shall give thee back flowers of joy.
Why do you wear the crown of thorns?
Fill my heart with thy sorrow,
And let me shower on thee rain of comfort.
If thou weepest, my heart weepeth
For the love of sublimity hath bound us close.
What sort of faded flowers hath shrouded thy fragrant
joy---
Is it of cold wave in thy household
Or of sickly pallor lurking around thy family ties?
Canst thou hide thy tears behind the curtain of thy smile?
The heart that bleeds hath no way to hide the wound .
Show me the wound that I shall heal it with love.
My heart knows of thy sunken soul.
What would happe to the moon if it loses its grace?
Will the rose be called as rose if its fragrance is lost?
Thou strikest me with the stranger's whip,
Am I an outsider unto thee?
Why not me be thy comforter
For I have drowned in thy love?
