I have been a fan of, and to some extent identify with Touchstone, the “fool and melancholic” character from Shakespeare’s As You Like It. Even though things have been merrier of late, I find myself occasionally slipping—almost willingly—into melancholy (I also have a Spotify playlist named “Enjoying Depression,” in my defence). Here are some melancholic thoughts I scribbled on a rainy evening in Michigan.

What is there in sadness that happiness can’t trigger,

Why does it hit harder than any emotion, however stronger?

What is there in melancholy that you sometimes crave,

Why do you want to cry, even when you seem so brave?

What makes it remind you of things you didn’t realize otherwise,

Why does it suddenly make you feel guilty, with no choice but to despise?

Is it another of nature’s tricks to help you prevail,

Or just an emotion that keeps you humane and frail?

Is it something that mankind is prone to — a fundamental human behavior,

Or just a channel to flush out the exhaustion from the façade of feigned valor?

Is it always related to a loved one or your lover,

And if it is just a mirror to make you look back, reflect, and ponder?

Regardless of our understanding of the truth that leads to melancholy,

It will keep spawning generations of Tagores, Shakespeares, and Walter Raleighs!