The Song Of The World
Let me fan you, says the wind.
Let me wet you, says the sea.
If that’s the way they talk,
Why don’t they talk that way to me?
Let me dry you, says the desert.
Oh, let me cool you, says the rain.
Let me drift you, the river says.
Let me dye you with the stain
Of the sunset, says the evening.
Let me float you, says the lake.
Let me bury you, says the snow.
Says the trembler, let me shake.
You. Freeze you, says the glacier.
Let me love you, says the girl.
Let me shade you, says the tree.
Let me dazzle you, says the pearl.
Let me warm you with a flame
Burning steadily, says the fire.
Let me wash you, says the water.
Let me hide you, says the briar.
Let me sing to you, says the bird.
Let me burn you, says the sun.
I don’t know what the moon says,
Or that star, the green pale one.
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