Where trees stand in the winter night as skeletons
out of the clouds of fog the silver-white moon rises
and in the distance a dog is barking,
when other sounds come that no man can understand,
lightning-bolts flash down without end
and as a mere man
I see the omnipotence out of the hand of God
when the windows rattle as if something wants to come in
and I am astounded by the great scene
when the first drops begin to fall
and rain pours down over the dry earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good one, Gerty! ! Kudos! Reading my poems won't make Satan knock at your door, I guess!