Dead Can Dance - The Wind That Shakes the Barley
           [an Irish ballad written by Robert Dwyer Joyce (1836-1883)]
I sat within a valley green I sat me with my true love My sad heart strove to choose between The old love and the new love The old for her, the new that made Me think on Ireland dearly While soft the wind blew down the glade And shook the golden barley Twas hard the woeful words to frame To break the ties that bound us But harder still to bear the shame Of foreign chains around us And so I said, "The mountain glen I"ll seek at morning early And join the bold United Men While soft winds shake the barley" While sad I kissed away her tears My fond arms "round her flinging The foeman"s shot burst on our ears From out the wildwood ringing A bullet pierced my true love"s side In life"s young spring so early And on my breast in blood she died While soft winds shook the barley I bore her to some mountain stream And many"s the summer blossom I placed with branches soft and green About her gore-stained bosom I wept and kissed her clay-cold corpse Then rushed o"er vale and valley My vengeance on the foe to wreak While soft winds shook the barley But blood for blood without remorse I"ve taken at Oulart Hollow And laid my true love"s clay-cold corpse Where I full soon may follow As "round her grave I wander drear Noon, night and morning early With breaking heart when e"er I hear The wind that shakes the barley

Fujin [Wind God]
 
P.J. Harvey - The Wind 

Catherine liked high places
High up on the hills
A place for making noises
Noises like the Whales
Here she built a chapel with
Her image on the wall
A place where she could rest and
A place where she could wash
and listen to the wind blow
She dreamt of children"s voices
And torture on the wheel
Patron-Saint of nothing
A woman of the hills
She once was a lady
Of pleasure, and high-born
A lady of the city
But now she sits and moans
and listens to the wind blow
I see her in her chapel
High up on a hill
She must be so lonely
Oh Mother, can"t we give
A husband to our Catherine?
A handsome one, a dear
A rich one for the lady
Someone to listen with