Classic Poem

In a house born of the brown earth
And dying back to earth again,
Without any desire to be more than earth
And without any particular pain,
Beside an acequia bringing water
To the corn not yet tall,
Three men were sitting with poems on their knees
And they heard the wind rise and fall.
And one of them heard his own voice rising,
And one of them heard his own voice falling,
And the other heard only the summons of the wind
And wondered where it was calling.