Onward from vast uncharted space, Forward through timeless voids, Into us all there surge and race The measureless might of the wind. In the steep, steep silence of thin blue air, High on a lonely ledge, Where the air is clear and clean and rare, I give to the wind... my pledge: By the strength of my arm, by the sight of my eye, By the skill of my fingers, I swear, As long as I live, never follow any way But the sweeping way of the wind. Keen and pure from mountain heights, Hard across the open plains Blowing after rains, it welds in our souls The sweeping way of the wind Here in the utter stillness, High on a lonely ledge, Where the air is trembling with lightning, I have given the wind my pledge. I will feel the wind rise until I die; I will work with the wind's own breath I will search for it pure and never follow any way But the sweeping way of the wind