Lovely song, a ghost of happiness
Flung upon the wind in exaltation
Sing alone though no one hear
Sing of all that men hold dear.
A moment’s finding of the soul
A spark across a gap, a hole
Where no man guesses, no man goes.
Communication of the soul.
Alone on windy barren plains
A spirit weeps, the mind groans
The very ache of living pains
But no one stops it, no one goes.
The tinkling rhythm soothes our veins
Remembrance of a better day
Forgetting of our nature’s load
For tumbling moment’s of a daze.
Are these our heritage, our hope?
Like sharpest pain, a moment’s pleasure
It peaks our taste with sour grapes.
Speak, song, to all who hear
And tell them that our death is near
Sing ‘till sorrow’s sway is not
Sing so time is soon forgot.
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