The wind rose, the sea rose
A wave rose on the sea,
It sang the mournful singing
Of a sad centenary;

It sang the song of an old man
Whose heart had died of grief,
Whose soul had dried and withered
At the falling of the leaf.

It sang the song of a young man
Whose heart had died of pain
When Spring was black and withered
And the winter come again.

The wind rose, the sea rose
A wave rose on the sea
Swelled with the mournful singing
Of a sad centenary.