Wind Poem by Zoran Bogdanovic
Wind
It's blowin' in Chicago,
in deserted streets 'n' parks,
blowin' by the lake.
Piece of cake!
Wind is blowing in my heart,
in the darkness of my fears,
fighting its way through my tears
as the moment of truth nears.
Shall I stay or shall I part?
The night has descended
so that the sun may rise,
the morning so splendid,
so bright and wise,
which brings my salvation,
or my demise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 4:29:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
An intriguing poem, Zoran. I enjoyed reading it. Thanks for posting.