One and a million thoughts trouble me They sold my treasures to better men
My hands have gone from me and my head finds delight in torments I stay alone in believing_ my limbs sink, they will offer no help
My future collects for me hateful names, And my talents traveled to the arid sands . There is no strength in the night_ for when she comes down and darkens my mind, I am weakened by her spell, and my days then carry no light
There is no hope in the day _ for it carries torment and doubt, mixed to a sense of nothingness , worthlessness, uselessness, pithy ,and sorrow but also _water_
And so, like ants on an autumn day, I'll carry it through,
Like a breeze from the nearest rivers, I am persistent
And like a tree planted by the water, my soul lacks of nothing.
