The wind calls no one by their name-
But howls and howls, before it wane.
Awakens at the dark of moon,
Circling mountains in the gloom,
Whistling high it's sovereign song-
That no one's on earth for long.
The wind has syllables unknown,
And for millenia has blown
Its keening cry, out on the plains,
Its fearsome dirge, that sounds like pain-
If you would learn the ways of wind,
All your days on earth would end.
The wind's capricious and alone,
And of true loneliness, it moans;
It knows no warmth of company,
But bland caresses of the trees.
The wind could take you far away-
To where no words could ever say.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Patti this one just blows a chill into my very depths and it is hauntingly desirable to experience. You had to call this one up from the depths for it to have such a force. Just amazing. I love it a lot............. Jim Troy