The gale force southwester reminds me
of my longing for you.
Leaves are blown about
touching here and there
not finding a place of rest
like my emotions
Branches grunt and bend
under the power of the wind -
overpowered...
but they find their way back against the wind
just to be bent back again
against their will
as the high that overpowered me
under your touch.
When the wind at last dies down
the pelting rain takes its place
forever on its journey down
never giving up
it keeps on falling
feeding, giving strength to grow
drops finding their way to one another
becoming stronger all the time…
Such is our love.
When the rain recedes and
it becomes quiet
I am filled with the memory
of you and me…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem