Me and that untouched glass of liquor
late at night,
alone at home,
me and a glass of liquor
Storms come and gone
yet the mountain has not moved
flowing eternally, yet the river is not dry
But my journey,
but where does the other half lead?
to the horizon or to dark depths?
The season has changed,
Winds have changed direction
and the sky in west is glowing before dusk
But where are my dreams?
are they too half-realized like my halfway journey?
People labor and then sigh
but I sigh before assessing
that half journey;
(In front of that half-filled glass)
a mix of some success and a lot failure
some happiness and a lot of gloom
some elation and a lot of frustration
This first half of life,
have I squandered it?
but the glass is silent,
the content of glass is silent
Yet the dawn has to come
and the east is beginning to glow red
Yet my doubt is lingering
doubt about life, its meaning, its purpose
That glass is silent on everything
and all who have drank it;
they too are silent
In my agonizing search for width and depth of life,
meaning and worthlessness of life,
I am alone, utterly alone
and in a hurry and desperation,
before the dawn appears
and that soothing moon gives way to scorching sun,
wolves of day-life come howling
I have to find out
Hope I won’t be disappointed.