Classic Poem

Who else will care for me
Alone in the chill west wind,
Now that my idle window is shut
Amid the dreariness of yellow leaves?
Under the declining sun's gaze
I stand deep in thought
Of happy times gone by.

Worry not when your sweet wine-intoxicated self
Is overwhelmed with heavy spring slumber!
Book-guessing games with splashing of fragrant tea
Will suffice to beguile the waking hours —
Things I then thought to be nothing out of the ordinary.