Harried we were, and spent,
broken and falling,
ere as the cranes we went,
crying and calling.
Summer shall see the bird
backward returning;
never shall there be heard
those, who went yearning.
Emptied of us the land;
ghostly our going;
fallen like spears the hand
dropped in the throwing.
We are the lost who went,
like the cranes, crying;
hunted, lonely and spent
broken and dying.
