and drowns his rage in violent rain.

The tears of heaven wash away

the troubles of the Lover's day,

as they remind him of his quest

and every road and every test

which his Beloved put him through.

The oldest troubles and the new,

are tests that lead him by the hand:

his enemies are made of sand.

Oh heart of mine fear not their might

as they pile up and scheme at night,

and fight them not lest you forget:

by fighting dirt, to dirt you get.

So stand up tall and watch in awe,

they'll turn to mud and wash below:

the tears of heaven are the rage

of every Lover and every Sage.