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 KKqHmysFO605BAXWOu1I5eeOM9eETOoR6FCkqNAr9Xg1Bjcvo6CTLVvVLehURBrr