The wind closed his mouth
And hummed a song for the world
He opened his wide nostrils and
Poured out his breath
And shook the trees;
Uproot them with his invisible cudgels.
He wheezed past the city
Brought bad odor or sweet fragrance
Held a conversation with trees and power lines
After all he's calm again
Our friend and for
Far and wide ubiquitous-
A troubadour always in transit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem