The dolichos grows and covers the thorn, <br />O'er the waste is the dragon-plant creeping. <br />The man of my heart is away and I mourn-- <br />What home have I, lonely and weeping? <br /> <br />Covering the jujubes the dolichos grows, <br />The graves many dragon-plants cover; <br />But where is the man on whose breast I'd repose? <br />No home have I, having no lover! <br /> <br />Fair to see was the pillow of horn, <br />And fair the bed-chamber's adorning; <br />But the man of my heart is not here, and I mourn <br />All alone, and wait for the morning. <br /> <br />While the long days of summer pass over my head, <br />And long winter nights leave their traces, <br />I'm alone! Till a hundred of years shall have fled, <br />And then I shall meet his embraces. <br /> <br />Through the long winter nights I am burdened with fears, <br />Through the long summer days I am lonely; <br />But when time shall have counted its hundreds of years <br />I then shall be his--and his only!<br /><br />Confucius<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-wife-mourns-for-her-husband-2/
