North, south blowing, Tattooing our souls! East, west blowing, Breaking the bridges! Winds blowing across the sky, Clouding the stars, And stopping the rains. But an urgent one is blowing, Taking people to their destinations, Home ward bound! How do we do? For it is difficult to dictate, For we are in a new world. Behold, it is not a dream!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Sunday. You may like to read my poem, Love And. Thank you.