Blowing wind, blowing wind, blowing wind,
Leaves are swept along its path…
Rows of trees, armies of trees bend and sway
Where are you, where are you, where are you?
How it rains, how it snows, how it snows
You are not to be found!
Your image follows me, haunts me
Everywhere, every moment, always!
A distant sky seeps misty thoughts…
Blowing wind, blowing wind, blowing wind!
Nicely envisioned and well penned with insight. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
best georgian poet he wrote Eight volumes in his life and only one poem here? shame