My self is composed of two halves; no laugh!

One's the very mine, the other of my better half.

Each whole day is half morning, half afternoon.

In love she would half yes tune, half no croon.

As the evening clouds are half violet, half rose,

Her feelings half cold, in a daze my heart to pose,

Causing me to half wait, half long for, foolish,

Half staying disconsolate, half straying, coolish,

Half infatuated bitterly; but I do not care, sure!

Half of myself, too, would not bemoan this amour.


Translation by THANH-THANH