Have I gone mad?
I didn't think my condition was that bad;
For what else could the reason be?
For he's there, wherever I see;
Be it the neighboring kids,
Or the shopkeepers,
Or birds, animals, and even trees?
I've perhaps turned mentally insane,
For I'm sneaking them a glance
The same way as I would see you,
Whenever you're leaning against a tree,
Playing your sweet flute.