Voices Crying in the Night

Is that a voice that's crying in the night?
Or is it the sighing of my soul?
It whirls, like vapors, barely out of sight;
the eerie images or strains of fancy roll.

Revisiting a long-lost memory,
a chill may hold or curiosity explore,
and in the night the voice is grasping me:
"Live now, or hang onto days of yore."

Oh, Wind , could be that you are calling me,
or wily beast its untamed longings cries.
Those voices of night enthrall my fantasy,
until I see with day's unclouded eyes.

(Maybe this could be a sort of refrain):
Oh, voice, oh voice of night, you capture me
with fascination, thrill, and mystery.