Like a deer pant for a water brook
I sat beside the dry oasis
Longing for a downpour
No little drop to quench my burning thirst
No stream to heal my panting soul
Depressed like a fugitive wandering in the desert was I
Sorrowed by the drought in my soul
Who would quench my thirst?
Who would heal my soul from this pant? I muttered
My bones were frail and my strength weak
My flamboyant attires camouflaged my pain
No one could see my desire from the inside
Blinded by the deception of my countenance
All they could see was my smile
Even when my brook was dry
Who would fill me up, who would quench this longing?
The more I cry, the happier they felt I was
Left to face my desert all alone
Then I realized, no one would understand my pain
No help would come from the fountains
It was me alone who understood my secret longing
And it was me who destined to sought for a brook
Unti I thirst no more
