Classic Poem

If someone somewhere exists
who knows my heart,
who knows my solitary heart as I do,

the dust that sometimes clouds my heart,
and the pleading drops of guileless tears,
the rewards that gently form like dew in azure nights:
all these I would lay like hidden treasures before him.

Ah, such yearning.
Can I see far off in my dreams
one who knows my solitary heart as I do?

In pure-scented jade, flames glow red;
I wish that love would kindle too,
but my heart, clouded like a smoking lamp,
knows no love, my solitary heart.