The falling petals bear my tears
the green fields I'll not visit again
a heartless scythe is fate
my only companion is unceasing pain-
by the world neglected
and forgotten-- my life is all in vain
through my lonely window I gaze
a gray sky trembles over the plain-
my friends no longer look my way
from mentioning my name they refrain
how happy they all are--revelling in wine and song
such great spirits they maintain
while I'm withering, wasting, love-wanting
waiting for my sanity to propitiously return
hope eludes me, the night mocks me- life's nonchalant-
poetry alone is my consolation as I write this my last testament
* the great nature/rural poet, was placed in the asylum from1837--1841; absconded in 1841 and walked 80 miles home. Wrote 3,000 poems, also essays and journals. A tragic life. ' I AM' is perhaps his most poignant poem. I read the poem aged 14 from a book-prize awarded by my school, in the then Malaya, a British colony until 1957