The harsh winds pierce
And show winter's fangs fierce
Across the cold grey mottled sea,
Spume's blown sharp sword
Thrown in icy discord
Shaking the leafless tree;
Slashing tide crashes
And harbour wall lashes
The startled gulls disband,
The frozen landscape yields
It's sweeping defeated fields
To the winter's icy hand
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem