Over There Beyond Fields of Yellow...

Over there beyond fields of yellow

There are villages stretching ahead.

There"s a  wood and the  sunset of mellow

And a fence with a nettle thread.

There over  the domes of the temple

Is the  turquoise  dust of the sky,

And the wind rings the grass, wet and gentle,

As it comes from the lakes nearby.

It is not for the song of the valley

That I love this greenery spill,

Like a crane I"m in love with the alley

And the convent on top of the hill.

When the azure gets misty and blooming,

And the  sunset hangs over the bridge

I can see you, my wandering woman,

Go to bow to the cross and beseech.

Chaste is life in the convent village,

Public prayer absorbs you all,

Pray before our Saviour"s image,

Preach to God for my fallen soul.

1916