Who is at my window, who, who?
      Go from my window, go, go!
      Who calleth there, so like a stranger?
      Go from my window, go!
                                             J. Wedderburn
                                                     1542

Who is at my window, who, who?
It’s the blind cuckoo, mulling
the old song over.

The old song is about fear, about
tomorrow and next year.

Timor mortis conturbat me, he sings
What’s the use?                             He brings me

the image of when, a boat
hull down, smudged on the darkening ocean.

I want to move deeper onto today;
he keeps me from that work.
Today and eternity are nothing to him.
His wings spread at the window make it dark.

Go from my window, go, go!


Timor mortis conturbat me = Latin for ‘the fear of death disturbs me.’