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