Until the rush of spring
Makes it's yearly trip
Springtime winds begin erractic and fickle
Then briskly in oppostion
They shift to gentle and mild
Caressing buds on the trees
Summer brings on the change
Afternoons bring on the violent rampage
That mother nature can do
Winds blow hot and dry
Flashes of heat lightning
Flicker across the sky
Air is scorched and scarred
Nature at its worst
Winds gather in the clouds
Rains quenching Earth's hungry thirst
Magic lies within the wind
As it rushes through the trees
A hint of the mystic
Catching and tossing the leaves
Lifting smoke from the chimney
Twisting and twirling it up through the air
Whistling past the buildings
Making eerie sounds,
Sometimes cruel and harsh
Shaking, Shuddering, and Chilling
Rushing through the valley
Assaulting the snow, picking it up
Its breath is so cold
Icy fingers clench the earth
Holding it lightly within its grasp
Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter
Each in order come and go
Along with the cycle of seasons
The wind will forever blow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem