Lo here they come the Westerly's
On their lips a westward song,
Alighting from Horse Latitudes
It's a land where they belong.
They bring along the scent of seas
And that forlorn desert bloom,
With rakish mates - the clouds and dust
And tempests spelling our doom.
With polar breeze they gain in strength
And they lug the winter rains,
Then carry forth these tidings dark
Till they reach the eastward plains.
The summer sun placates their wrath
So their grim temper might wane,
Transforming them to lovelorn boys
Trudging past their sweetheart's lane.
They leave behind thick foliage
Grass-blades sprinkled with dew,
Fragrant blossoms with birds and bees
Mornings with a golden hue.
Such favours for the mortal world
Speaks high of their chivalries,
Rich western culture plausible
When you sight the Westerly's.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem