Songs of a Cowherd/A Woman's Lament
A Woman’s Lament
(Composed for a lady to be sent to her cruel husband)
“Surely he will come tonight,”
So saying I watched many a night
Pale to dawn without having met my love.
Drawing my child close to my breast,
I weep.
Like to a wreath of smoke
Untouched by winds,
How shall I curb my love
That rushes with singleness of purpose
To you, its goal?