“Hollow-sounding and Mysterious.”
There’s no replying
To the Wind’s sighing,
Telling, foretelling,
Dying, undying,
Dwindling and swelling,
Complaining, droning,
Whistling and moaning,
Ever beginning,
Ending, repeating,
Hinting and dinning,
Lagging and fleeting—
We’ve no replying
Living or dying
To the Wind’s sighing.
What are you telling,
Variable Wind-tone?
What would be teaching,
O sinking, swelling,
Desolate Wind-moan?
Ever for ever
Teaching and preaching,
Never, ah never
Making us wiser—
The earliest riser
Catches no meaning,
The last who hearkens
Garners no gleaning
Of wisdom’s treasure,
While the world darkens:—
Living or dying,
In pain, in pleasure,
We’ve no replying
To wordless flying
Wind’s sighing.