He Hears the Cry of the Sedge

I wander by the edge
     Of this desolate lake
     Where wind cries in the sedge：
     Until the axle break
     That keeps the stars in their round，
     And hands hurl in the deep
     The banners of East and West，
     And the girdle of light is unbound，
     Your breast will not lie by the breast
     Of your beloved in sleep.