Thank you Edgar, your help is invaluable.
Maple you my barely, maple my benumbed,
Why
are you standing, stooping to the blizzard whitely?
Have you noticed something? Have you heard a sound?
As
though, outside a village, for a walk your'e out.
Like a drunken lookout, being on a beat,
Who
sank down in a snow bank, got a foot frostbitten.
Ah, today, I'm also, somehow, quite unstable,
Can't get to my dwelling from a friendly revel:
Yon, came on a willow, yon, picked out a pine,
And
sang them, under blizzard, songs about summer.
To myself, I looked just like this very maple,
Only not a bare one, - verdant, in high fettle.
And, ignoring bearing, getting crazed flat out,
I
caught to heart a birch tree, like another's spouse.