1. While youth passed by with its goals,
I looked back with a tearful gaze.

2. Sleep rode the saddlebags of travel;
I woke up in one land though I'd slept in another.

3. I roll an eyelid that does not dry, so whenever
I sigh in complaint, I stop being thankful.

4. Or hearing that can be delighted by good news.
Whenever a dove's cooing troubles me

5. Or a flash of lightning shakes me with memories,
I collect water and fire in my agony -

6. Tears from an aching eyelid and passion from my innermost heart.
The topic of old age has lessened on the path to doom,

7. So the lesser now was once the greater.
Whenever poetry mourns youth,

8. It makes the place for poetry join the place for poetry.
If only a new talk of newness would flow,

9. Or a specter of youth would steal away.