The gold-armoured ghost from the Roman road 
Sighed over the wheat "Fear not the sound and the glamour
of my gold armour
(The sound of the wind and the wheat)
Fear not its clamour
Fear only the red-gold sun with the fleece of a fox
Who will steal the fluttering bird you hide in your breast.
Fear only the red-gold rain that will dim your brightness,
O my tall tow'r of corn, you, my blonde girl"
But the wind sighed "Rest"... 
The wind in his grey knight's armour
The wind in his grey knight armour
Sighed over the fields of wheat,
"He is gone... forlorn."