A play for sympathy

(3352) Kalasayarer balukabelay

Upon the sea of time's sandy shore,
Waiting and waiting I count the minutes.
Inwardly I contemplate if on lyre is cognition;
About You there I hear a bit.

Having come from afar, it goes floating far off,
Those lute-strings excite an atom.
By that great rhythm, in the highest happiness,
A web of fancy do I knit.

How fine if once it comes and leaves,
For instant brief You stand before me.
I concede that mine are no pious austerities;
I summon a mood sympathetic.

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