Classic Poem

Gray, gloomy, more than a month overcast;
soggy, soggy, rain for days on end.
Parting the blinds, I gaze at the sky:
yellow clouds drab as dirt.
Rushing torrents are breaking down my wall,
the violent wind plays havoc with my roof.
Weeds and brambles spring up in the courtyard,
rivers of mud have buried the vegetable patch.
A village so remote no visitors ever come;
windows are dark, I'm companionless.
The whole day I hardly get out of bed
while now and then frogs come hopping in the door.
Out the gate, I've nowhere to go;
back in my room, alone once again.
If I didn't have wine to cheer me,
who could I talk to in my solitude?