My previous life was spent by moonlit streams
Waiting for my love, the princess fair.
She would be flown to me upon the winds,
Together gentle Zephyrus we hailed,
And making love, baptised by holy rain,
We vowed this christening to be for evermore.

I carried her to my beloved moor
And built a castle over sacred streams.
Through its roof fell sleet and snow and rain,
She sheltered me within her tresses fair.
And come summer the heather she inhaled,
Declaring love for me unto the winds.

A fool not to expect the northern winds
And Boreas I curse for evermore
For the violent tempest he exhaled.
The god had taken jealousy to extremes
Toward his brother Zephyrus the fair
Who glided my princess to my terrain:

For my beloved's father's stately reign
Was toppled by some harsh rebellious winds.
Spared of his life, ejected without fare,
The broken king found solace on the moor;
With inner tears, rippling skin, like streams,
My love still loved as though he were still hailed.

For all the pearls at night the clouds had hailed
That mingled in his hair, each whiff of rain
Cascading through his beard like forest streams,
She dried with kisses. As a coil unwinds,
My reason, wit, my maiden of the moor,
All sacrificed at my own private fair.

The coins from my own purse have paid their fare
Across the styx from where no-one is hailed,
To where her laugh will linger evermore.
Hot tears baptise my face, unholy rain.
What good is a confession to the winds
Of the drownings in two sacred streams?

Envoi:

Fair, pale ghost don't haunt me in your reign
(I know the winds have brought you back) be hailed
For evermore by the sacred streams.