Two tear-rivers streamed in my black forest,
And sorry I could not dam it to a respite
And be it I’ve longed to change,
And parting one eyelid, as far as I could be sane
To where I tear in the rain;
Then locked the other eyelid, as just as teary,
And quench perhaps their thirst daily,
Because it was thundery, and wanted to cry;
Though as for that within the rain I was sly,
Had falling tear-showers really be from the sinking sky?
Both these eyes to the world equally keen
In rain no tears shall be seen.
Oh, sorrowed storms hide the bursting stream!
Yet strolling my way sobbing on,
If ever should come back the sun, I’d be gone.
I should be telling this with a hesitance
But somewhere ages ago I died:
Two tear-rivers flowed in my mind,
Succumbing to one less sufferance
And that has solaced all the difference.
A sad poem.