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 FI2GnodxID3DxFudKSpM29bWNsLsVotScg6jvkX64WpULSQmHNd2nOxKymh2Dcs1