Over all the Earth they say
The wind is liege, so rules all,
The breeze, or the storm windís call
When all is blown away.
Then at dusk some child may pray
For an angel to come forth,
Out of the West, East, or North
With wind up from the bay.
Some sad lover in dismay,
Whose hopeís faded with the dawn,
Prostrate on the withered lawn,
With the dust soon blows away.
What choice I, to go or stay?
In this valley thick with stones,
Where the wind forever groans,
Blows my fragile hopes away.
Dead leaves in a sad ballet
Swirl around the hill and vale,
Where I wait, alone and pale,
Like those leaves, then blow away.