Lean out your window, golden hair

I heard you singing in the midnight air

my book is closed, I read no more

watching the fire dance, on the floor

I've left my book,

I've left my room

For I heard you singing through the gloom

singing and singing, a merry air

lean out the window, golden hair...

(Lyrics from a poem by James Joyce)

(Texte provenant d'un poГЁme de James Joyce