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 GdGddk1Z7e4rw5oux5u/sY2uRD2GcN5hU0AfqMJ1qdSlECym6p+KmaWNRxjdQkXU