Western Wind

The night is dry and cracking
Like thrown stones return to dust;
My tears' the only waters flown,
Leaving a trail of rust.

Alone I weep and wander,
A-thirsting for my home,
But the liquid sands wash o'er each step,
And I know not from where I come or go.

O' deserted delirium—
Would that the stars could blind!
But, I am far, and they care not
Whether I should live or die.

My mouth is sour and silent;
I've no tongue to voice my painl
O' I'd cry in joy if only
I could someday cry again!

O' Western Wind when will thou blow
The small rain down can rain?
Christ, if my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again!

How nature, harsh, torments me
With beauty bleak and cold;
I long for something—anything;
Show yourself, and I'll behold.

There is no sun can rise to out-
Shine my desperate trench;
Shadows hold as much as visions:
Falsehoods full of emptiness.

O' Western Wind when will thou blow
The small rain down can rain?
Christ, if my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again!

O' Western Wind when will thou blow
The small rain down can rain?
Christ, if my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again!