A Man Young and Old

Human Dignity

Like the moon her kindness is，

If kindness I may call

What has no comprehension int，

But is the same for all

As though my sorrow were a scene

Upon a painted wall.

So like a bit of stone I lie

Under a broken tree.

I could recover if I shrieked1

My hearts agony

To passing bird， but I am dumb

From human dignity.