Drowsy the waves and dim the sky,
Across the shore and far away,
Like drunken things the rushes sway
Without a want. O God on high,
Is it decreed that longer yet
Within this lockless prison set,
Beside this sea that profits naught,
I am to languish ? Answering not,
Like to a living thing, the grain
Sways mute and yellowing on the plain;
No tidings will it let me hear,
And none besides to give me ear.
Drowsy the waves and dim the sky,
Across the shore and far away,
Like drunken things the rushes sway
Without a want. O God on high,
Is it decreed that longer yet
Within this lockless prison set,
Beside this sea that profits naught,
I am to languish ? Answering not,
Like to a living thing, the grain
Sways mute and yellowing on the plain;
No tidings will it let me hear,
And none besides to give me ear.
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