My beloved sings by the house in moonlight

My beloved sings by the house in moonlight,

And I must lie here in the bed, listening.

I turn myself away from my mother, and weep;

My tears are blood, and never run dry.

I have wept the broad stream by the bed;

Through my tears I know not if the morning shines.

For longing have I wept the broad stream by the bed;

The bloody tears have made me blind.