As the wind blows
I almost know
I can feel the thrill
Without one kill
As the wind talks
I start to walk
No one understands
A man with no hands
As the wind yowls
It sounds like howls
Like women in need of money
Or craving for some honey
As the wind weeps
I get the creeps
It sounds like cries
When someone dies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem