My heart is an Aeolian harp hanging from
A seven-storied pagoda,
Ding dong ding dong ding,
Ever chiming, ringing somebody’s name.
—Is your pagoda slightly trembling?
It is the pulse of silence, day and night.
Have you heard it, ding dong ding dong ding?
Nothing can ever stop the haunting tune,
Unless all breezes are turned around,
All bells picked down, all pagodas overthrown.
For my heart is a string of bells, high and low,
Ding dong ding dong ding,
Now falling, now rising,
Chiming somebody’s name.
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