In a whimsy tasted my emotion-
I shrieked, it was too strong,
In my deep-delved chest it was,
Very old- so strong.
I was forced
By your pleasant "hello",
That brought the false past back-
I used to knit; glasses, needless, rocking chair,
Like the old witch knitted our story,
A very false one,
Yet more real than the reality
Of today, of yonder, of bygone.
Reality of falsehood, falsehood of reality
Floated in front of my eyes,
I plunged deep deep into that flood,
Let myself drowned in memory,
Matured, and came out a crying baby.