You! The wind of night;
Bracing, enchanting zephyr.
Every time I open my casement;
There again! You call me near.
...
The sun goes down the verge;
The silvery moon walks the night.
Upon the green meadows, shadows emerge;
Land in- the mock stars, fireworms bright.
...
Rain, till my bone's wet,
Till my soul's wet,
Till my agony's swept.
Let every drop be felt,
...