There it is, a wind from the East
A motion of warmth returns home
It moves, and something flutters
It moves, and I elate
Vacillant being, do not delay
With trite footings and teased notions
Here is the eclipse
A pinpoint light on you
Annexed streams, flow with the ghost
Who swells up our fervor
Who holds premonition
As we study the other
With the mood of the currents
Trees concave and vex
Leaves are fickle things
When the wind is cold
Dearest wind, whisper then laugh
Froth the waters, dismiss the clouds
Curl into these sails
Curl into me, do not delay