Be quiet, Heart, the sun goes down
The sun goes down on the meadow.
As far to the east as the eye can reach
The cottonwood spreads its shadow.
A team in the field makes its last slow turn,
In a barn on the hill the windowpanes burn.

Be comforted, Heart, the sun goes down,
The sun bends down to harvest
The few remaining straws of light
That the roofs and the trees still cherish,
And a late-winged bird drops a falling bar
Of sleep notes to the evening star.

Be peaceful, Heart, though the sun goes down
Though the sun goes down and ever
It leaves to the pouring layers of dark
Our fields as it might forever,
This day our love, our labor and grief
Like the fiber of life have surpassed belief.