Whistler of winds
Of Zephyr competitor
And
Yet boon most of friends:
You
Find in the Spring whistling
At night to ghosts and
Shrouds and rattling skeletons
In cemeteries:
Amidst the yews around
You find him there.
And
In the chill of winter
He
Attaches himself since olden
Centuries
To buildings
Dreaming houses
Sleeping breath and
The in-turmoil of sub-conscious reigns
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Whistler wind to dreaming houses, beautifully presented everything in this poem. Nice job on sharing.