I'm on the outside looking in again
And hearing laughter from a happy throng,
I'm peering through a steamed-up window pane.
I'm looking in from out where I belong.
And all I see is muffled shapes in pairs,
The strains of music reach my useless ears,
I try to spy inside this world of theirs
Through steamed-up glass and reminiscent tears.
I turn in sorrow, hollow through and through,
I've looked at heaven, now I'm back in hell,
Recalled the happiness that I once knew
When I was on the inside once as well.
I hear their laughter - never hear their jokes -
What solitude their happiness evokes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem