Why Worry About Being Young and Ignorant of Sorrow?

“The parasol trees look even more gaunt in the fine rain, as dusk falls, drop by drop.”

A young man knows nothing of sorrow, yet to write a new song, he forces himself to feign it.

So indifferent, with no ambition, wishing only to be content with the status quo, yet born at the wrong time.

Why not leave sorrow unknown and linger amid the laughter of the mortal world?