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 qDvRqARlExsyCEIzP49Ot4gx66NfIT/hZFUESbzaeXt3ACqvzwvGYj9GJbI7pMSE