Wishes of a Dead Son

O winds, going to where once I dwelt, Don't carry moisture there, for they'll rust, Turn your streams here , where I melt, Burn to ashes and turn into dust . O birds, don't sing any song there, For they know their son has turned into dirt, And is lost forever in the eternal fair, Your song will tear apart their hearts . O clouds , please don't rain here, Go away , far away from me, Go and wash all their tears , For they have a future to see. O moon , shining up too high , Listen to me , as I don't lie, Give them warmth and give them light, For I can't be once again in the sight.