Waiting

The song I came to sing
remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing
and in unstringing my instrument.

The time has not come true,
the words have not been rightly set;
only there is the agony
of wishing in my heart…..

I have not seen her face,
nor have I listened to her voice;
only I have heard her gentle footsteps
from the road before my house…..

But the lamp has not been lit
and I cannot ask her into my house;
I live in the hope of meeting with her;
but this meeting is not yet.