In my lotus-lake there remains only the
thorn of the lotus.
When did arise the tremendous noise,
Who did tear off the red lotus of my
bosom?
the lake from time to time maketh
the queries.
Why goeth not the thorn along with
the lotus?
I am now constantly covered with the cures
only of the bathing Nymph.
Will the wandering girls ever come to me?
Ever wear a garland made of my
lotus thread?
Will the pain of my thorn ever remain
only in my mind?
If the flower is gone, who will ever
entwine her bangle with the lotus-thorn?
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