This place is always a little lonely
At the weekends...no noise and life;
I like solitude,
But not in places
Where there’s recently been
A lot of people.
Reclusiveness protects you
From nostalgia,
And you can be as nostalgic
In relation to what happened
Half an hour ago,
As half a century ago, in fact more so.

My capacity for social warmth,
Excessive social dependence,
And romantic zeal,
Can be practically deranging;
It’s no wonder I feel the need
To escape,
From my own
Drastic social emotivity,
And devastating capacity
For loneliness.
I feel trapped here;
There’s no outlet for my talents.

In such a state as this,
I could fall in love with anyone.
The night before last,
I went to the ball,
Couples filing out,
I wanted to be half of every one,
But I didn't want to lose…
I’ll get over how I feel now,
And very soon.
Gradually I’ll freeze again,
Even assuming an extra layer of snow.
I have to get out of here.