So bury me, wind, bury me!
Alas, my loved ones did not come.
Stray evening roams on paths still free,
And calm earth's breath begins to hum.
Like you, I once was free and charmed;
But I so madly wished to live.
Do you see, wind, my cold corpse stiff,
With no one here to cross my arms?
Now close and cloak this wound so black,
With evening's dark and baleful shroud;
And bid blue mist to read aloud
Those psalms which fend off night's attack.
So that, alone, I might pass on
To that last dream which night may bring;
So rustle now the high sedge song
About the spring, about my spring.