Along the roadside as I go, br I peep through the houses in a row. br In which one appears strange; br As if it has undergone many times a change. br I glance at the solitary window, br Which has many melancholy seeds to sow. br I go near the window which is solitary; br Bearing the days lonely and nights dreary. br What is the life of that house, I think! br Where no one breathes nor anyone's eyes blink! br With this thought I move along the window sill, br Keeping the thought in my mind still; br I move aside the place, br With memory's smallest trace.