Lean out your window, golden hair
I heard you singing in the midnight air
My book is closed, I read no more
Watching the fire dance, on the floor
I’ve left my book,
I’ve left my room

For I heard you singing through the gloom
Singing and singing, a merry air
Lean out the window, golden hair...

(lyrics from a poem by james joyce)
(texte provenant d’un poème de james joyce-