The winds out of the west land blow, <br />My friends have breathed them there; <br />Warm with the blood of lads I know <br />Comes east the sighing air. <br /> <br />It fanned their temples, filled their lungs, <br />Scattered their forelocks free; <br />My friends made words of it with tongues <br />That talk no more to me. <br /> <br />Their voices, dying as they fly, <br />Thick on the wind are sown; <br />The names of men blow soundless by, <br />My fellows' and my own. <br /> <br />Oh lads, at home I heard you plain, <br />But here your speech is still, <br />And down the sighing wind in vain <br />You hollo from the hill. <br /> <br />The wind and I, we both were there, <br />But neither long abode; <br />Now through the friendless world we fare <br />And sigh upon the road.<br /><br />Alfred Edward Housman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-winds-out-of-the-west-land-blow/
