The wind told me you’re leaving today
With voice so harsh it laid trees bare
The wind told me you’re leaving today
Hissed through the vines its ill tidings
You can’t leave today my love
Not when the bougainvilleas are in frolic
You can’t leave today my love
Not when the orchids are in a festive glee
Even in the morrow you cannot go
For the fruits will be in harvest then
Even in the morrow you cannot go
For the arid sod awaits your benediction
The wind told me you’re leaving today
Absurd! I said to this malignant tale
The wind told me you’re leaving today
Ill wind begone… was my incensed cry
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