Lonely complains
The married man complains.
Discontent
There will always be.
What we have, we do not notice.
Gathered by an upside-down,
We yearn for the missing.

Complain about the lack —
Give in to emptiness
For the best of luck,
Like the wind, chase.

And the treasures - here they are,
In the crowd and in solitude —
Just recognize it.
What do you have is the prices
Come back and take it.
Don’t even look —
Rejoice and have it.