John Constable's The Cornfield (The Drinking Boy)

In the Cornfield of sadness I cannot walk
A Drinking Boy thirsty for delight
A silent and loner man who never talked
Petrified I am and timid in my own flight.

Embracing my heart without fervor is vain
Feeding my soul without zeal is certainly wasted
Just adding grieve to my core full of pain
Heaven on earth, flavorful yet never been tasted.

Running out of happy thoughts to think
I cannot fly high in the middle of struggle and tussle
From the highest hill to deepest lake I sink
But strived back to the land and return to the battle.

Read and see my soul in my first sorrow
Inflict a blade of pain to my wounds deeper
To the green corn moon I eagerly stare for tomorrow
Chance and glee to God I will whisper.

Understand and ease my strife
Cleanse my spirit by your wonderful heart
Regret is when I look back over my life
But your love eases my trouble and doubt.

In the Cornfield of sadness I once walked
Conquering mind is what I got
And lovely and beautiful soul
Blow a kiss pleasingly to my delight.