Here the American writer describe her inner solitude.
My cup is empty tonight
Cold and dry are its sides,
Chilled by the wind from the open window.
Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight.
The room is filled with the strange scent
Of wistaria blossoms.
They sway in the moon’s radiance
And tap against the wall.
But the cup of my heart is still,
And cold, and empty.
When you come, it
Red and trembling with blood,
Heart’s blood for your drinking;
To fill your mouth with love
And the bitter-sweet taste of a soul.
Chilled: very cold
brims: becomes full (to the brim: to the top)
The Bungler This poem is the description of how the Poetess fells both psychologically and physically.
You glow in my heart
Like the flames of uncounted candles.
But when I go to warm my hands,
My clumsiness overturns the light,
And then I stumble
Against the tables and chairs.
bungler: it. maldestra
glow: burn, shine
overturns: knocks over
stumble: fall, falter