Whisp'ring winds, sing sweet to me,
And all its secrets blesséd be;
Yet, there be not divinity,
No single spark within the world so weak.
Oh, ye winds! that sing, please speak;
Herald the truth or lies to strong and meek.
Wond'rous winds that whisper, sing, and speak
Nonchalant words of nonsense unto me,
Feel I burdens from this world; weary, weak,
And lumberéd by feigned divinity.
Spiteful winds! Why act you oh so meek,
And let the world exist and be?
Monst'rous winds, smite fake divinity,
For you have pow'r to render this world meek!
Why, oh why do you not let the world "not be"?
It is within your grasp to uncreate; to make it weak.
Irksome winds! you simply lisp to me
While biding time, barely able to speak?
Marv'lous winds, are you humble and meek?
Wish you not the end to be?
Have you pity with this world so weak?
Believe you in high divinity?
Damnéd winds! Why hold your tongue and not e'en speak?
Spite you humanity and spite you me!
Dreary winds, where dost your answer be?
Demand I counsul! Demand you speak!
"Oh, fool, act not I for divinity
Or out of spineless char'ty for the meek
We, the Winds, all of us, including me,
Ne'er lisp our secrets to the meek.
Awesome winds we are, to you, we speak.
I tell you while we leave this earth be:
We let destroyers cull the weak;
Those who deny divinity.
Damnéd fool! See you not as the meek!
Now you shall take your leave from me."
Ah, winds! See I now what your meek answer be!
Mine eyes know, not for weak pity, why you only speak:
The destroyers of divinity are man and me.
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