Before You Lose Me

My beloved,
when you were a shoot that had broken through the ground,
you asked why you did not grow like that bamboo,
and complained.
When you had grown like the bamboo,
you asked why no wind blew to cool you,
and complained.
When I made the wind blow to cool you,
you asked why I did not send rain,
and complained.
I supply all that you want,
yet in the end you are complaining again.
I have nothing more to give you,
so I mean to leave you.
Before you lose me, look at yourself, doing nothing but complain.