Tho’ I may be some prey to Sorrow,
let it find me alone in the meadow;
‘ere I walk in peace, ‘gainst the wind,
‘ere I travel light to save my strength.
Let Sorrow come not in waves of discord,
lest my back be broken by its onslaught;
let it find me unwavering ‘gainst the wind,
‘ere I steady myself to its wanton desires.
Let Sorrow fall o’er me as a summer rain,
‘ere I shall stand aside to wait for the sun;
and with its passing, dry my soul of tears,
that then the sun shall erase from memory.