The wind was on the withered heath

But in the forest stirred no leaf

There shadows lay by night and day

When one came down he lost his faith

The wind came down from mountains cold

And like a tide it roared and rolled

The branches groaned, the forest moaned

And leafs were laid upon the stoned

The wind went on from west to east

All movement in the forest ceased

But shrill and harsh, across the marsh

where the whistling voices rush

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent

The reeds were rattling - on it went

Where racing clouds were rent and torn

For fate and trust they were not born

It passed the lonely mountain bare

And swept above the dragon's lair

There black and dark lay boulders stark

And flying smoke was the expired mark

It left the world and took its flight

Over the wide seas of the night

The moon set sail upon the gale

The dark tower as the holy frail...