The Wishing Jewel you gave to me
was as dew upon the tree
and it shines with a light all its own,
but now I walk alone—alone.
The Jewel you gave fell with the wind
through boughs at our Summer’s end,
and though I hold it, the winds still moan
while I walk on, alone—alone.
Foxes laugh among the flowers,
haunting pagoda towers,
and while my heart becomes as a stone
I walk this night alone—alone.
The Jewel is hot as a fresh tear,
yet, lover, you come not near.
Willful fox! You refuse to atone,
so I walk forever alone.