Wind

Wind 

No chimes on the green 

     mountain as this wind 

          wafts amid the glens. 

Now hear the only sound:

     rustling leaves belong 

to mountain and to wind. 

Seasons rotate as affairs 

wheel: wait for New Year,

then burn your prayers. 

[lyric]

Prayers in the Wind 

No chimes on our green 

     mountain as this wind 

          wafts amid the glens. 

Now hear the only sound:

     rustling leaves belong 

to mountain and to wind. 

Our seasons rotate as affairs 

     wheel: we wait for New 

Year then burn our prayers. 

[first version] check