If the western wind could speak,
I'd bid it bear my love across the distance,
And caress for me the all-too-precious cheek,
That day by day gives light to my existence.
If the sun could shine the brighter,
On the golden head I long to hold,
Then shine, oh sun, and make his burden lighter,
That I might bear his weight and feel his cold.
Clouds, if you would take request,
Send no storms to dampen in his eyes.
But take your shapes at his behest,
And build him castles in your skies.
And if the river listens still,
While in her banks immersed,
I'll bid her follow rill by rill,
And quench his every thirst.
But Moon, if in the dark, you find
A little maiden, cold and lonely
Seek him, moon, his soul remind,
That he's her one and only.