Howl, howl, howl, wild wind blows - oh!
Hiss, hiss, hiss, rain falls hard - oh!
Wild winds make withered branches break
Hard dropped rain makes rotten leaves shake
Lone cicada can't chirp its wing
Bored sparrow loses will to sing
Wild wind, hard rain to mountains, plains
Washing mire and muck toward river flow
Rivers wide fill in but one day
Flowing Eastward on, not to stay
Muck and mire is no longer seen
Mountains, rivers shimmering clean.
The rains go and grasses sprout anew,
Do you not see the light as a crystal dew?
_____Translated by Tom Magione
Revised by Cotter Li
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem