Whereby you too unfold the emotions,
Your emotions, that is,
Hear!
Hear the wind in the pine,
The sad pine on the cliff
Half-dried, half-withered
Where was the Spring wind
That blew, the Autumn wind
That cooled and went?
Almost barren the hill’s side lies
With tufts of stubble for its population:
O! the ravages of Winter! And
Just started are: what when completed
And Winter bows its way before due Spring?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem