Chamber Music

XXXV

James Joyce

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 water’s
        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.

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