On a journey soon I must embark
And leave this land I love.
No more I'll see the hovering lark,
Or hear it's song above.
I'll say goodbye to mountains,
I'll leave the valleys and the streams,
To find wind-water fountains,
The qi of which I dream.
My glass has steadily half drained.
My yin has lost it's yang.
I'm pained, I'm chained, my waxing's waned,
And the bells of Rhymney rang.
My time amongst you almost done,
Soon I'll trouble you no more.
This shoddy union, loosely spun,
My chair creeps nearer the door.
I'll close my eyes and think of she,
My goddess of the night.
For it's she that fills my glass with glee,
Upon the bench, beneath the old oak tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem