di Fiona Macleod (1885-1905) [pseudonym]

There's sorrow on the wind, my grief,
there's sorrow on the wind,
Old and grey! Old and grey!
I hear it whispering, calling,
where the last stars touch the sea,
where the cloud creeps down the hill,
and the leaf shakes on the tree.
There's sorrow on the wind
and it's calling low to me
"Come away! Come away! Come away!"
There's sorrow in the world, O wind,
there's sorrow in my heart
Night and day, Night and day.
So why should I not listen
to the song you sing to me?
The hill cloud falls away in rain,
the leaf whirls from the tree,
And peace may live in I-Brasîl
where the last stars touch the sea,
Far away, far away.