Dare I aspire

(3199)  Jharer rate andharete

On a stormy night, in the absence of light,
Amid the bower I had cried.
To speak about and understand the pain,
No one had been to me nigh.

Many boughs, broken, have declined;
Dropped down have the young buds slight.
Fruits and blooms have fallen aside,
On tree after tree with mournful sigh.

In my pleasure-garden of mind,
At storm's end with a wind that's mild,
On conclusion of the dark and destructive night,
Will You arrive in charming attire?

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