Far from the sea, her sighing dunes

All wander lost beneath the moons

That wax and wane in an eternal sky;

Where subtle symphonies of light

And wondrous silences of night

Draw the four winds from their pavilions,

To rage across the stony plains,

To drive away the beating rains

Towards a pale haze on the horizon.

There a spear of sandstone towers;

Keeper of the daylight hours

And kindly magus of sweet soothing shade.

To him, when the winds are weary,

They go with eyes tired and teary

And briefly cease their warfare on the sands.