Do you
grieve? Why are you still running fast?
The
farther you reach the wider/deeper you grow.
I am so
sad, dizzy looking at you rushing past;
Missing
my far native land I bow my head low.
Along
your path everywhere alluvium giving,
Away from
source a river knows to nourish Man,
While my
blind alley is in search of a living,
Wanting
to feed myself with joy hardly I can.
Back
home, I have the modest Thu Stream
Which
also knows to nurse people and self-love.
All my
life to be like that dear river I dream
To flow
among Love, round and round to rove.
Nevertheless, adieu to my country! So fervid
Up to
this place, my return seems a blindfold.
The
farther from its origin it gets more turbid:
Distraught with disgrace -- Oh! pure flow of old!
You and
me, we both are away from source:
We should
have exchanged feelings all night.
Without
worry, you continue your swift course,
Leaving
me all solitary in exile in this plight!
