My King

My king, I come from afar to you,
Bringing treasures unknown to you,
But gifts that will surely please.
I sail joyfully to this place,
Thinking I know your heart—alas!
It is still a dried-up harbor!

I quietly await the rising tide of your love,
To float my heavy-laden ship;
The moon has waxed for weeks, the flowers bloomed for many times,
Yet I wait, wait in vain for your tide!
My king, they say the tides bring signs,
How can I believe them now?