Swissshhh. Whoooooo.
Whhooooo, Swishhhhhh.
Blew the singing winds at night
As they whirled and twirled about.
Trees brushed with
A chorus of leaves—
Creating a natural refrain.
One could hear the sound
Of its brushy song.
And feel the presence
Of its cool-velvety touch.
Ah, but wouldn't it be cool
To ‘see' the wind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem