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It floats about , that boat of cypress wood ;
Yea , it floats about on the current .
Disturbed am I and sleepless ,
As if suffering from a painful wound .
It is not because I have no wine ,
And that I might not wander and saunder about .

My mind is not a mirror ; —
It cannot [equally] receive [all impressions] .
I , indeed , have brothers ,
But I cannot depend on them ,
I meet with their anger .

My mind is not a stone ; —
It cannot be rolled about .
My mind is not a mat ; —
It cannot be rolled up .
My deportment has been dignified and good ,
With nothing wrong which can be pointed out .

My anxious heart is full of trouble ;
I am hated by the herd of mean creatures ;
I meet with many distresses ;
I receive insults not a few .
Silently I think of my case ,
And , starting as from sleep , I beat my breast .

There are the sun and moon , —
How is it that the former has become small , and not the latter ?
The sorrow cleaves to my heart ,
Like an unwashed dress .
Silently I think of my case ,
But I cannot spread my wings and fly away .