Another Poem in the Same Vein

You whose words are jewel bearing, next to yours any effort in the world is like digging in a barren mine. Day and night the work of your heart warming nature is to tear the roots of sorrow out of your friends' hearts. If you have an enemy, then Mars, the warrior of the sky, is busy digging their grave. Enduring the separation from your service is like clawing through mountains and anvils with bare nails. There is no cure for parting from you but union, like drawing out an aching tooth to end the pain. Without you, far from your face, my only trade is to bite the back of my hand in grief. If I go on living in this separation, it is not living at all; it is dying by inches.