The wind alive a gentle breeze
It whispers through the elder trees
Which stand so tall so solemn proud
And speak their secrets oft aloud
I know it when I hear it
But why is it I fear it?
Calm now, tranquility devouring
Embrace the warmth and showering
A silver face
A golden grace
A human heart
A human race
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem