The wind's cold whisper
Sends a warning
Feel soft drops on skin
Shivers in your back
As the storm comes rolling
Look on the horizon
A panic sets in
Breezing trees and
Rustling leaves
The sky shouts it's pain.
An insufferable might
Bent on wreckage
An inexplicable plight
Delivers a message
The fate is terminal
Drives us insane
Icy hell beats down
Winds knock you to the ground
The sky shouts its pain
Tell me now, who's afraid of the rain?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great Write Tim. Have you ever read the last part of the Waste Land? Going by this I'd say you'd like it. Sean