Down in the valley of hollow logs Two lovers lay in the weeds Safe in the net of their sweaty arms Safe from the wind in the trees "My love," said the boy, "you're the clear blue sky. You're the air I gulp to breathe I feel you rushing through my veins Like the wind rushing through the trees." "My love," said the girl, "you're my secret pearl. You're a string of tiny glass beads You're a burning star I keep in a jar Safe from the wind in the trees." Down in the valley of hollow logs Two lovers lay back in the weeds Listening to the howl of hunting dogs And the wind howling through the trees Then insects ran for the underbrush As the wind fills the air with dead leaves And every stone turned slowly to dust As the wind tore through the tees So the young girl pierced her lily-white breast Her blood poured over dark weeds A silver dagger through her burning heart Cold as the wind in the trees So the boy picked up the bloody knife And stove it through the chest Farewell, farewell to the wind and the trees I'll die with the one I love best