Where does the Wind go
To hide its moaning pain?
The pain of lost souls
That have so cried in vain
For the Wind
Also cries and howls,
With no place to go,
Lost in space and sorrows,
With today not even turning
Into dark tomorrows.
Where does the Wind go?
When love is torn and narrow,
Hit by life's Inexplicable Arrow,
That kills happiness on sight.
And where will we go?
When the Wind of Love,
Is gone tomorrow
And all we have left,
Is the Night,
Lonely and narrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, this poem stabs at the heart like life's inexplicable arrow. What a metaphor! Great poem, Sandra. I agree with Robert - it blows us away.