Ah! to be able to sing...

By Dhan Gopal Mukerji

Ah! to be able to sing,

To sorrow in melody;

To string with silver

Sorrow's dark harp!

Or, mount every thorn

Crowning life's brow

With lustrous stars —

Those tears of the sky.

Rolling down its face

When night's hand puts

Darkness's crown on its head

As twilight dies.

None of these, for my soul;

Only to weep is given to me,

To nourish my heart's crop

For the scythe of barrenness to reap.