I will sing a joyous song
            To you, my Lady!
    On a hill the wind is blowing!
    Lady, Lady, we have stood upon the hill
            But now I’m far
    And you are far from me
And yet the wind is all between us blowing.

    I will sing to you, my Lady,
            Of the wind!
    On a hill the wind is blowing!
    Hand in hand we were and round us lay the valley.
            Now, I am far 
    And you are far from me
But still between us the wind’s a blowing, blowing.

    Here me sing to you, my Lady,
            In the wind!
    On a hill the wind is blowing!
    Down he went, the golden sun,
And home went we.
            Though I am far
     And you are far from me
The wind is blowing, blowing all between.


 = Leon Branton