| O curlew, cry no more in the air, |
| Or only to the water in the West; |
| Because your crying brings to my mind |
| Passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair |
| That was shaken out over my breast: |
| There is enough evil in the crying of wind. |
| O curlew, cry no more in the air, |
| Or only to the water in the West; |
| Because your crying brings to my mind |
| Passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair |
| That was shaken out over my breast: |
| There is enough evil in the crying of wind. |