The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.
A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.
.......dear poemhunter, this is the exact same poem as the one listed titled, the sky is low, the clouds are mean ★
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
how many form that poem have