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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386828" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Wind-Child</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">MY FOLK’S the wind-folk, it’s there I belong,<br>I tread the earth below them, and the earth does me wrong,<br>Before my spirit knew itself, before this frame unfurled,<br>I was a little wandering breeze and blew about the world.<br>The winds of the morning that breathe against my cheek<br>Are kisses of comfort from a love too great to speak;<br>The whimpering airs that cry by night and never find their rest<br>Are sobbing to be taken in and soothed upon my breast.<br>The storm through the mountains, the tempest from the sea,<br>That ride their cloudy horses and take no thought of me,<br>They are my noble brothers that hasten to the fight,<br>They fill my heart with singing, they fill my eyes with light,<br>They’re a shield upon my shoulder, a sword by my side,<br>A battle cry for weariness,—and a plume of pride.<br>But sometimes in the moonlight, when the moon is in the west,<br>Young and strange and virginal and dropping to her rest,<br>There comes a wind from out the south, a little chill and thin,<br>And draws me from the human warmth that houses it within.<br>My soul streams forth to follow a soul that lures it on,<br>The sleepy flesh calls kin to it, and murmurs to be gone;<br>Across the dreaming dewy flowers and through the shadowy trees<br>The sweet insistent whisper comes, and I am ill at ease.<br>How, they have not told me, and where, I do not know,<br>But the wind-folk is my folk, and some day I’ll go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Enid+Derham">Enid Derham</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386828" data-title="The Wind-Child de Enid Derham" data-description="MY FOLK’S the wind-folk, it’s there I belong,
I tread the earth below them, and the earth does me wrong,
Before my spirit knew itself, before this frame unfurled,
I was a little wandering breeze and blew about the world.
The winds of the morni..."></div>
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