The old woman spins, and her wheel
Is prattling of old, old things;
As though to a doll she sings,
And memories over her steal.
The hemp is yellow and long,
The old woman spins the thread,
Bending her white, weary head
Over the wheel's lying song.
The wheel goes round with a whirl,
The yellow hemp is unwound,
She turns it round and round,
She is playing like a girl.
The yellow hemp is unwound,
She sees herself a girl,
As blonde as the skeins that whirl,
She is dancing round and round.
The wheel rolls round with a whirr,
And the hemp is humming as well,
She hears an old lover tell
And whisper his love for her.
Her tired hands rest above
The wheel, its spinning is done,
And with the hemp are spun
Her memories of love.