Dunce's Song

The wind that comes, the wind that goes,

Never tells me what it knows.

The wind is witness of all things

Of water's birth, of Saturn's rings,

Of sin's undoing, of love's laws,

And revolutions without cause

But still my face is famine lean;

The wind that sees cannot be seen.

If I could turn a sudden head,

sidewise, perhaps, as the wind sped

And its dark edges rippled by,

I might grow wise enough to die.

But here I stand and only know:

Wind come, wind go.