XXXV

All day I hear the noise of waters

Making moan,

Sad as the sea-bird is, when going

Forth alone,

He hears the winds cry to the waters

Monotone

The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing

Where I go.

I hear the noise of many waters

Far below.

All day, all night, I hear them flowing

To and fro.

James Joyce

– Chamber Music. Pomes Penyeach (1927)