A homeless man, worn down by life, speaks with exhausted bitterness. For him, the world has lost every trace of comfort: flowers have no scent, birds do not sing, and even rain and clouds look dirty and tired. The sun and moon, which he once loved, now seem angry or mocking. He remembers watching the moon light up a cornfield from a mountain, but that memory only sharpens his present misery. Everything feels shadowed, heavy, and pointless.
The mood is bleak and claustrophobic, full of weariness and disgust. He is not simply sad; he is emptied out and convinced that nothing good remains. His only wish is to die and find stillness somewhere far beyond this “damned world.” It is a portrait of total despair, where nature itself seems as sick of living as the speaker.