Complains about the wind
The sharp wind sways the wet flame
In his cold rain like a storm tears, which numbs
The frozen buds before their intumescence.
With desperate gusts, the wind sighs deeply,
Sweeping the perennial cool-mellow grass,
In sunless wane, increasingly provoking
The drama of the garden and his disguised agony,
Always coming from the top of the hill,
Untangling his lips of his mouth,
That kind of mouth like an invisible cave,
Stretching nonsense words like a prayer to nothing,
Dancing his force with the willow trees,
Furiously riding the bursting clouds,
Singing his tempest very louder songs,
Trying to utter his selfishness,
His dreams and his future chances.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Related quotes
Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
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When the wind sighs
When the wind sighs
When the wind sighs
The blind-fold statue sings
The faces of the skies are dark
And the cloud flies.
When the wind sighs
From the door-crevice in
It begs to enter in
How darker are the shadows on the walls
How sad how sad the flame wavers
As on the wall it flickers:
When the wind sighs
The sea’s black turns to green
And on the city-bastions tall
The first chill blow of wind
The first chill dropp of rain
And in the alley strait
Rain-waters gurgle down
The old stone-cobbled streets:
When the wind sighs
When the wind sighs.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Harmattan
Sahara desert is coming with its dry wind
Dry wind that desiccates the skin
See it come with its cold wind
Cold wind that makes oil sleep in tin
It comes to dry the lips
To force the lips to tear
Then the tongue licks the lips
To reduce its burden to bear
Sahara desert is here with its moistless wind
Our fields are loosing its fresh foliage
Our moist soil is now arid and drained
It makes all things look its old age
The young wrinkles like the old
And their future old nature unfold
poem by YoungBen Ulebor
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Wind And Rain
Wind racing, rain facing
glow, an eye stinging,
ear whistling blow,
with mouth gasping,
breath rasping north wind,
force wind, cold source
artic on course wind
for inside out umbrella
pinned fella...
when she turned around
and embarrassedly grinned.
poem by by unknown author
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Rainfall
From out the west, where darkling storm-clouds float,
The 'waking wind pipes soft its rising note.
From out the west, o'erhung with fringes grey,
The wind preludes with sighs its roundelay,
Then blowing, singing, piping, laughing loud,
It scurries on before the grey storm-cloud;
Across the hollow and along the hill
It whips and whirls among the maples, till
With boughs upbent, and green of leaves blown wide,
The silver shines upon their underside.
A gusty freshening of humid air,
With showers laden, and with fragrance rare;
And now a little sprinkle, with a dash
Of great cool drops that fall with sudden splash;
Then over field and hollow, grass and grain,
The loud, crisp whiteness of the nearing rain.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Shadow
I am a shadow;
I dance in rhythm with the changing of the seasons.
As the rain falls, I weep.
I become sky lightening as a storm approaches.
I fight with thunder in an approaching squall.
I rage war with the fury of the wind-
With the locusts, I scream.
The creek’s water rushes over its banks, and
As torrential rains inundate its surface,
I am the shadow that is reflected in the pond, into where the
Creek empties, then sighs- as the
Storm subsides.
I am that shadow, motionless, but angry.
I am a shadow lost in the wild-
I follow the deer-
They do not fear me-
I am silent and cautious but wrathful.
No one can envision the flame that sears my soul- as
My rage smolders.
My shadow is the inner child living within me that
Plays a game with the brushfire that blazes in the forest,
That shadow that blends with the darkness as the
Sun sets, and with the rising of the moon,
I am its shadow that reappears, coming into its power.
I chant with the rustling of the trees and the singing of the nightingale, as the
Late summer’s breeze carries me.
I glance with grace and dignity at the treetops,
Lost and confused, I am searching for life’s meaning,
A home for myself, and an escape from reality-
I am the shadow of my dreams,
I have no future in this world;
I am only a shadow,
Lost in the woodlands,
Blending with the trees, and fading into the night-
As shy as the deer, but invisible-
I scream with the locusts,
I dance,
I chant.
Invisible to this world, here I am powerless and fearful, though as
I disappear into the horizon,
Hidden inside a mountain of clouds, I return to my power.
I have found here another place in time where
No one can harm me.
I am my own person, strong, brave and angry-
Lost somewhere in these clouds,
I have found a safe haven.
I dissolve into nothingness, and follow my dreams.
Whether it be in a dream or in reality,
I shall be found and never lost.
There will always be shadows dancing with the rhythm of the
Changing of time…
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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De Ægypto
I even I, am he who knoweth the roads
Through the sky, and the wind thereof is my body.
I have beheld the Lady of Life,
I, even I, who fly with the swallows.
Green and gray is her raiment,
Trailing along the wind.
I, even I, am he who knoweth the roads
Through the sky, and the wind thereof is my body.
Manus animam pinxit,
My pen is in my hand
To write the acceptable word. . . .
My mouth to chant the pure singing!
Who hath the mouth to receive it,
The song of the Lotus of Kumi?
I, even I, am he who knoweth the roads
Through the sky, and the wind thereof is my body.
I am flame that riseth in the sun,
I, even I, who fly with the swallows.
The moon is upon my forehead,
The winds are under my lips.
The moon is a great pearl in the waters of sapphire,
Cool to my fingers the flowing waters.
I, even I, am he who knoweth the roads
Through the sky, and the wind thereof is my body.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Wind, wind everywhere
Wind here, wind there, wind wind everywhere.
In the trees, in the grass, wind comes to pass.
It cools off in summer, freezes in winter, and all in between.
Wind brings clouds and rain for the drain.
poem by Hannah Barton
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Song VII: Dawn Talks to Day
Dawn talks to Day
Over dew-gleaming flowers,
Night flies away
Till the resting of hours:
Fresh are thy feet
And with dreams thine eyes glistening,
Thy still lips are sweet
Though the world is a-listening.
O Love, set a word in my mouth for our meeting,
Cast thine arms round about me to stay my heart's beating!
O fresh day, O fair day, O long day made ours!
Morn shall meet noon
While the flower-stems yet move,
Though the wind dieth soon
And the clouds fade above.
Loved lips are thine
As I tremble and hearken;
Bright thine eyes shine,
Though the leaves thy brow darken.
O Love, kiss me into silence, lest no word avail me,
Stay my head with thy bosom lest breath and life fail me!
O sweet day, O rich day, made long for our love!
Late day shall greet eve,
And the full blossoms shake,
For the wind will not leave
The tall trees while they wake.
Eyes soft with bliss,
Come nigher and nigher!
Sweet mouth I kiss,
Tell me all thy desire!
Let us speak, love, together some words of our story,
That our lips as they part may remember the glory!
O soft day, O calm day, made clear for our sake!
Eve shall kiss night,
And the leaves stir like rain
As the wind stealeth light
O'er the grass of the plain.
Unseen are thine eyes
Mid the dreamy night's sleeping,
And on my mouth there lies
The dear rain of thy weeping.
Hold silence, love, speak not of the sweet day departed,
Cling close to me, love, lest I waken sad-hearted!
O kind day, O dear day, short day, come again!
poem by William Morris
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To the face in the mirror [Către chipul din oglindă]
How from your frame at me you stare
As if I am in danger,
Your eyes, amazed, query from there:
"Do you still know me, stranger?"
"You, ugly one, I know you not!"
Your face is pale and rigid
And your weird eyes are burning hot,
Their sight makes me feel frigid...
I know you were a crazy child
On wind and sunlight riding,
Your eyes were bright, your face was mild,
Your mouth was always smiling.
All Nature bowed in front of you
Fulfilling your desire:
Your palace was the wood, it's true,
The glade was your empire.
From there – have passed so many years –
They took you among others,
To water with your child's hot tears
A book with shabby covers.
But the long years and all the sighs
Of learning and endeavor,
Quenched not the flame of your pure eyes,
Your smile they could not sever.
And you could sing and you could love,
Made jokes, never surrendered...
But you stopped flying like a dove
When in this world you entered.
Presumably it was your lot
To feel these things unpleasant.
To utter ugly words cannot
Your mouth, even at present!
* * *
So easily preserves the sand
The footprints after strolling,
Yet, I have not such kind of soul
As on my face is showing.
The venom gathered in my chest
Is making me to shiver,
I want to laugh!... But your big eyes
Shed tears that make a river".
poem by George Topîrceanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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A Song Of Three Singers
I
Wave and wind and willow-tree
Speak a speech that no man knoweth;
Tree that sigheth, wind that bloweth,
Wave that floweth to the sea:
Wave and wind and willow-tree.
Peerless perfect poets ye,
Singing songs all songs excelling,
Fine as crystal music dwelling
In a welling fountain free:
Peerless perfect poets three!
II
Wave and wind and willow-tree
Know not aught of poets' rhyming,
Yet they make a silver-chiming
Sunward-climbing minstrelsy,
Soother than all songs that be.
Blows the wind it knows not why,
Flows the wave it knows not whither,
And the willow swayeth hither
Swayeth thither witlessly,
Nothing knowing save to sigh.
poem by William Watson
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Licia Sonnets 36
Hear how my sighs are echoed of the wind;
See how my tears are pitied by the rain;
Feel what a flame possesséd hath my mind;
Taste but the grief which I possess in vain.
Then if my sighs the blustering winds surpass,
And wat'ry tears the drops of rain exceed,
And if no flame like mine nor is nor was,
Nor grief like that whereon my soul doth feed,
Relent, fair Licia, when my sighs do blow;
Yield at my tears, that flintlike drops consume;
Accept the flame that doth my incense show,
Allow the grief that is my heart's perfume.
Thus sighs and tears, flame, grief shall plead for me;
So shall I pray, and you a goddess be.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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The Willow Tree
I am a Willow Tree, that sways gently in the wind
I am a Willow Tree, who has no limits.
I am a Willow Tree, who has long and beautiful branches
I am a Willow Tree, who provides shade and comfort.
I am a Willow Tree, who can be placed anywhere
I am a Willow Tree, I whisper in the wind.
I am a Willow Tree, you think I'm very free
I am a Willow Tree, don't ever want to be me.
poem by Lucy Gocher
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Walking Through The Rain
Once in our lifetime
will go through a narrow road
where there's nobody around
We just walking all alone
Carrying attached burden
And behind, chased by a storm
Will the soul safely reach home?
Left and right, nothing around
keep walking in a small road
Wind run chasing this feet
Bringing sand to my eyes
A bit hurt, force to tears
dropped, flew, dried still fears
Keep walking the storm just near
Wind swirl and touch the trees
The weak leaves falling down
Riding this feeling we cant help
After carrying all blurry years
The future seems like a smear
But the storm keep coming near
Too close to breaks and clear
I still walking ahead with hopes
There's nothing around to hold
The grey conquer half of the blue sky
While the sun gone leaving without light
Keep walking, keep moving, it's alright
Even the clouds shades my shadow
We left the past, i wont undo
When the rain pour on me
Finally i know the storm caught my body
Still walking, keep walking even a bit slowly
Stuck in heaviness, waking, standing and walking again
The storm push me down like the weak leaves falling down
Wake up and walking once again, nothing to hold, all by my own
Thunder shouting to scare but i'm too tired to keep afraid
No choice only walking, so I'll be brave for a change
Through this heavy rain
Keep walking to keep moving
Even it was pain with burden
For days and years to come,
I making decision through this rain
For life and future days still remain
Dont want spent entire life with all constrains
A Change for a chance,
So i took this chance to change
For next change of life chance
For always i trust my believe for a chance
The reason why i keep walking through the heavy rain
Cause i know there's always something i will gain at the end
A future with a rainbow will prove there's a chance and change
Cause I know the sun will rise and shine again
So i have made a decision through the rain
Even though i know storm will appear again
I will keep walking and stand again
: : : : : : : : Theme: Challenge and Inner strength: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
This time i learn and use my brain
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Fragment I
I round the threshold wandering here,
Vainly the tempest and the rain invoke,
That they may keep my lady prisoner.
And yet the wind was howling in the woods,
The roving thunder bellowing in the clouds,
Before the dawn had risen in the sky.
O ye dear clouds! O heaven! O earth! O trees!
My lady goes! Have mercy, if on earth
Unhappy lovers ever mercy find!
Awake, ye whirlwinds! storm-charged clouds, awake,
O'erwhelm me with your floods, until the sun
To other lands brings back the light of day!
Heaven opens; the wind falls; the grass, the leaves
Are motionless, around; the dazzling sun
In my tear-laden eyes remorseless shines.
poem by Count Giacomo Leopardi
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Mother Natures Fall Dress
The wind came up and started to blow
A sky filled with dark and rain coming slow.
Trees swaying touching the ground
The rain still coming but now surrounds.
Lightening slashing the fabric of the sky
Exposing the vestitial virgins colorful eye.
The river was in a turmoil with patches of wake
Falls first weather and summer heat, to break.
The wind picking up almost to a gale
Thunder and lightening with enough rain to fill a pail.
I sit among natures eventual force
Wind, ligntening and dark clouds of course.
More white caps on the river below
In a few short months we will call them snow.
The butterfly with flapping wings in haste
The wind takes no excuse for being late.
Disneyland could put on a replica of this endeavor
Wind, rain, thunder and lightening and be very clever.
poem by chuck Hurley
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Binding The Wind
You are breathing
It is cold
And your breath
Is seen in the wind
As white smoke
As you speak
I see your
Words in the air
And the wind
Carries them
All to me
In my nostrils
Then to my heart
I take my fingers
Touching your
Mouth feeling
Your lips
Molding some
Words of white smoke
To this cold day
I am cold
And weak
But I shall have
A way of making
My fingers coil
Into a rope
And I shall
Bind the wind
Where your words
Are contained
My fingers
Ropes of this
Meticulous mind
In this lovely chase
It is cold today
I am weak today
I bind the wind
Your words of
Love your warmth
In affection
And I bind them
All as I bundle
Them into a pillow
On my head
A pillow in my heart
On this cold day
I will not be weak.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Warm Rain Showers
The rain seems to come
at the right time when the day
is cool, the wind is clam
and the rain is gentle
when touching the soft skin of your arms
Catching the first dropp of rain
on your nose while
twisting yourself into a circle
as the rest of the rain
starts to flow down onto the grass
Dancing, singing, a nd playing
in the rain whren nothing
else seems to matter
Taking in the sweet, clean air
of the nature around you
never wanting it to go away
poem by To Those Who Wonder What Life Is About
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A Teasing Storm
I watch from the distance, as the storm covers me;
pouring it's dreadful rain as the dust blinds me.
I look in awe and disgrace of the thundering clouds,
as the storm covered plain with a pouring rain shrouds.
Flash after flash would race across the sky,
beauty of lights would chase the clouds floating by.
The roaring songs of the wind bristling through the trees,
would be enough to put even myself at ease;
but no, this storm did not cover me,
just a tease floating by for me to see.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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The Rain Is Like A Man
the rain this early morning
has an accompanying wind
i look at them by the window
my inner world divided by a thick glass
the trees are swaying and some leaves
begin to fall like some kind of a dance
the rain like a man carries the wind
on his arms and the wind leans down
i catch a glimpse of how they passionately kiss
it is sad and lonely and then the rain stops
the morning sun comes and the leaves
are at the feet of the trees kind of wet with tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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