Speak softly, winds, and do not haunt me,
Blow your whispers to the sky.
Long have I heard them gently pass me,
Now please leave me alone to die.
When I was young I looked around me,
Looked at joy and sought within.
I tried to live my days in laughter,
Shrank from death’s forsaken grin.
I grew up older and you told me
How flowers blossom, fade then die.
You said that all things were to wither,
Said my heart was not to lie.
I learned to love the wind’s soft whisper,
Glowing stars and lands to roam.
I could not bear the thought of dying,
Leaving a world which was my own.
I saw my hands grow old and wrinkled,
Knew that soon my time was done.
My mind could hear the winds still whisper:
‘Look out, my friend, you too will be gone!’
And now, my life and joy behind me,
I listen to death’s awaiting sigh.
I’m old and tired and long to rest,
No longer need I fear to die.